




Copyright N“ 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



I 


rt- 

f' 




h ' 


f 


r 


€ 


I 


r 


}! 





. 

• ^ } 




M * 

/ 



V / 


( 


\ 


















;> 


“ISN’T IT BEAUTIFUL? 





MERLE AND MAY 

A STORY OF GIRLHOOD DAYS 


BY 

GRACE SQUIRES 


I ) 



NEW YORK 


E. R DUTTON & COMPANY 

31 West Twenty-third Street 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 1 1906 

Copyright Entry 

0 

CLASS A XXc., No. 


COPYRIGHT, 1906 


E. P. DUTTON & CO. 

PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER, I 906 


Cbc Hsnfcbcrbocftcr press, igorft 



BY 


C » 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. 

The New Tenant 




PAGE 

1 

II. 

Merle's Adventure . 

. 



19 

III. 

Chief Cook and Bottle AVasher 



89 

IV. 

May's Maturity . 

• 



56 

V. 

The First Flight 

• 



77 

VI. 

A Christmas Box 

• 



97 

VII. 

The Conjugation op a Verb 

. 



U1 

VIII. 

All 's Well that Ends Well 

■ 



187 

IX.. 

^ -May shuns Scylla and falls into 

Charybdis 

155 


-A Symphony Rush Seat 

• 



175 

^ \V 

Flapjacks .... 




191 

XII. 

Pranks 

• 



217 

XIII. 

A Week's Vacation . 

• 



248 

XIV. 

Letters 




268 

XV. 

Lilac Bushes 

• 



279 

XVI. 

The Sweet Girl Graduate 

• 



810 

XVII. 

Canoeing .... 




326 

XVIII. 

Home Again 

• 

• 

» • 

345 


111 



LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS 


Is n’t IT Beautiful? {Frontispiece) . 
In a Flood of Tears .... 
Strolling About the Grounds . 

Such an Expression of Abject Misery 

In the Spring 

He Suddenly Drew Her to Him 


Page 211 
“ 18 
“ 26 
« 66 '^ 
“ 224 

“ 340 


V 






k’-- 

W ‘A ' '* ' 

1 '•' 1 1 

''V 





*. '■•,( 

•( ’ 


•• ^ ,‘. 


W-:y V 

■ ■ • , r,' M 


.,' ■ t 




^'i ■'/. 


I 


fV 


OL 


*■ • I 'V f 
■: I .•'^- S'v * ’i'l 






.w ^ ^ ' I IB 

'viCBT' 




’, V ^■^i 7'->v? 

■ • ■/' r V f / 




^ ,■ a 


“l- v'. ^ ^ ^ ' 

■♦ * \ t‘.. » , . . ' •.• 

.1 . V , I , • Tl • 


: '• /T \ . 




■ V \il I', 

‘ ' ■ ■ vk-.'' 




' I I 


•>.■, I ■ t 


Vv< 






S».#y >1 


M 


p';- ; 

r#V% *' 
■ft':’ 


\-lr 4 i 


i/j 


i T;: 


t' 


Lijt''. 'o )' 


V* 


h -f 




>1 


»' 'jii 




’•, V- 


A'- 


, '-tev- *■' 

, t ( '.t ”• ' r ■ 

^ iFT. -»x 






' Ul/I . . I . 


(V ' 




; . a:> 


.'.. 1 >'■.,' I 


* <1 1 A 


A ' 








•**v 


I* / 1 I, 


t 


•»wV, 


K7*VT/V 


*ir 






. V ' 



MERLE AND MAY 


CHAPTER I 

THE NEW TENANT 

There was a stampede on the back stairs, an al- 
most simultaneous opening of the door into the 
sitting-room, and, having stumbled over the machine 
cover. May precipitated herself into the maternal 
presence. 

“ Have they come, mother.? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I ’m going to call ! ” 

“ Not yet, — May! MAY ! ” but the door into the 
hall had slammed, and May was swiftly ascending 
the front stairs. Half-way she paused with an 
abrupt “ Hullo ! ” 

“ Hullo I ” came the surprised response. 

“ I was looking for you; I ’ve come to call,” con- 
tinued the unabashed, pausing before a niche in the 


I 


2 


MERLE AND MAY 

wall, designed for a statue, in which the new-comer 
sat. 

“ It’s very kind of you ; come up,” said the statue 
pro tern, rising to her feet. 

“ I felt dreadfully,” May proceeded, “ when mother 
first said we ’d have to turn the chambers int© a flat 
and let them. My father ’s dead, and we ’re not so 
well off now; but when I knew it was just two girls 
and their father I felt better. I ’ll show you how 
the rooms used to be. This was Ganny’s, our grand- 
mother, you know. There was a little marble bowl 
and running water, but mother had a sink put in. 
It will be your kitchen, I suppose.” 

‘‘A kitchen and dining-room together.” 

“ This was papa’s den — it ’s your parlor now ; and 
this little hall-room was mine. This dear room,” 
continued May, “papa fitted up for Grace, — the blue 
carpet, the blue paper, the blue chamber-set — she 
picked them all out herself. Your father bought 
them, I believe. Is it to be your room now ? ” 

“ No, it ’s Della’s.” 

“ Sister ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ How old.^ ” 

“ Nineteen.” 

“ Engaged.^ ” 

“ Mercy, no ! — college.” 


THE NEW TENANT 


3 


‘‘ Sophomore ? ” 

“ No — enters this fall.” 

“And you’ll be all alone Won’t you miss her 
dreadfully.? ” 

“ It won’t be till fall, you know ; and that ’s three 
months off,” replied the girl evasively. 

“ This is your room, then, I suppose? ” continued 
May, leading the way across the hall, and wisely re- 
fraining from making comment on her companion’s 
last remark, which, nevertheless, had offered her a 
rich field for investigation. “ This room is just 
built on. You see, my sister is engaged; and since 
father died, mother says she can’t let Grace go. 
There ’s no insuiration in keeping house without a 
man, too ; so she built on a room, and ran it up to this 
story. Is it yours ? ” queried May, hastily stepping 
back from a tall mirror which reflected all too ac- 
curately a light frousled head with two bow-legged 
pigtails ending in a nondescript bow, a freckled 
nose, and a giraffe neck, the outline of which was 
not softened by an ill-fitting collar and a frisky 
necktie. 

Startled by her own reflection. May now turned 
toward the new tenant, and with undisguised curiosity 
allowed her eyes to travel over the bronze waves of 
hair caught at the neck by a bewitching pink bow, 
the drooping gray eyes, the aristocratic nose and 


4 


MERLE AND MAY 


pretty mouth, the tidy collar and cuffs, the well- 
manicured hands, down the shapely figure, clear to 
the toe-tips. 

“Result satisfactory?” laughed the girl, with an 
amused light in the gray eyes. 

“ Highly ! ” replied May with ardor. “ And isn ’t 
it time to know what we are to call each other? I ’m 
‘ May.’ ” 

“I’m ‘Merle.’” 

“ What an odd name ! It ’s pretty, though. How 
old are you? ” 

“ Nearly eighteen.” 

“ I ’m sixteen,” straightening her tall figure. 
“Second year in High — where are you?” 

“ Third year — graduate.” 

“How jolly! French or Latin?” 

“ Both.” 

“ Lequel des mattres amlez vous le Ttiieux, le 
francais ou. — how would you say ‘Latin’ in French?” 
clipped May with an inquiring wag of the frousled 
head. 

“ I should n’t say it at all, parceque j^aime les deux 
fort hienN 

“ How glibly you slid over that ; I always thought 
it took a small mouth for French. That’s one rea- 
son I did n’t take German. Mother said ‘ prunes and 
prisms ’ would be better for my mouth than those 


THE NEW TENANT 


5 


dreadful jaw-breakers. You did ‘ hieUy* I thought> 
especially well; — what do you think of when you say 
it? I always try to feel sort of sea-sick at the end 
But, dear me, how shall you manage about the work, 
with school? ” added the incorrigible questioner. 

“ I don’t know. We ’ve always boarded since 
my mother died, but Della going to college left 
me alone, and father had some silly notions about 
having a home. I don’t know a thing about house- 
work, except that I hate it, so I don’t see where the 
‘ home ’ will come in.” 

Mother ’ll help you, I know she will ; she ’s the 
dearest mother,” replied May with a softening of 
the merry face, ‘‘ and I ’ll help with the dishes too, 
after your sister goes and you ’re alone; and if youi 
father could afford ” 

“ May ! ” called an admonitory voice from below. 

“ Yes, mother. (I promised to make no family 
disclosures, nor to coax your skeleton from the 
closet)” confided May in a whisper, “ so perhaps I ’d 
better go before I ’ve blundered. Come down when- 
ever you want me ; G^ace is no earthly use since Will 
came on the scene, and mother feels papa’s death so, 
I try to be in the house with her as much as I can. 
We are going to have flap-jacks for supper, and 
mother promised that I could get some syrup. I ’m 
going now.” 


6 


MERLE AND MAY 


May suited her actions to her words, for a long 
limb suddenly flashed across Merle’s vision, and its 
owner flew swiftly down the banister rail. In a 
twinkling another lithe figure flew down the railing 
too, miraculously escaped the gas jet, and landed with 
a thud at her companion’s feet. May sprang up 
with the agility of a cat, and said, laughing, as she 
held out her hands for the other to rise, “ Highly 
satisfactory all round. I was afraid you were going 
to be a bit dignified, but now I know you ’ll be no 
end jolly.” 

The rattle of a key in the latch hastened Merle 
in the settling of her collar and cuffs and the assump- 
tion of a proper air, so that, as her sister stepped 
in, her unconventional mode of descent was in no wise 
apparent. 

“ My sister Del — Miss Elliot,” hastily corrected 
Merle in response to a warning eyebrow lift. 

May was partner to a gentlemanly sort of hand- 
shake, and the interchange of a swift glance, after 
which she leaned against the newel-post, making no 
further effort to break the ice, but employed the 
awkward pause in digesting the impression that one 
glance had given her ; — “ Sharp eyes, and a firm 
mouth; knows a heap, I dare say, — but certainly not 
pretty.” Later, in attempting a second glance 
which she intended to be surreptitious, her bright 


THE NEW TENANT 


7 


eyes encountered the searching gray ones, and even 
she felt a moment’s embarrassment and abruptly 
turned away. 

“ Come with me while I get the syrup, and I ’ll 
show you where the stores are,” she said, addressing 
Merle, her hand on the sitting-room door. 

“ Don’t stay long ; there’s a great deal to be done. 
Merle,” called Della over the banister. ‘‘ Have you 
unpacked and done as I said ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Why not? ” 

“ I knew I ’d have it all to do over again ; and 
since I ’ve studied ph3’^sics I don’t believe in wasted 
energy.” 

“ I thought as much. When do you intend to 
come back and help ? ” 

“A week from Christmas ! ” The sitting-room door 
closed, shutting in the two girls. 

“ Mother, have you met — ” began May, but a sec- 
ond encounter with the sewing-machine cover brought 
the sentence to an untimely end. 

‘‘ No, dear,” was the reply. “ I met Miss Elliot 
when she came to look at the rooms with her father, 
but I have not met ” 

“Merle!” ejaculated May, struggling to recover 
breath and equilibrium. 

“I am glad to welcome you, my dear; you favor 


8 


MERLE AND MAY 


your father, I think. Grace, dear. My eldest 
daughter, ]\liss Norton, Miss Merle.” 

May made a grimace at this formal introduction, 
and flung herself down the steep winding stair to 
the basement with an abandon that would have 
proved perilous save to one skilful from long 
experience. 

Deserted by her lively companion. Merle felt a 
sudden stiffening of reserve. The easy greeting of 
Miss Norton ” had been grace itself, and she felt 
that her own stiff hand-shake must have seemed ner- 
vously self-conscious to this evidently polished and 
“ engaged ” young girl. Yet Merle’s discomfort 
came from her own imaginings, for nothing could 
have been less disconcerting than the genial greeting 
of Grace Norton. She was tall and fair; and the 
impish light that danced in May’s merry eyes was 
softened in hers to sweet and girlish charm. It may 
have been her first peep into the poetry of a woman’s 
life that brought this sweetness to her face; or, per- 
haps, a patience born of suffering, for a heavy cross 
in Mrs. Norton’s life was the delicacy of this dear 
daughter, who early showed signs of incipient 
consumption. 

Merle, however, breathed a breath of relief when 
Grace betook herself back to the parlor and began 
practising, and left her with nothing more formidable 


THE NEW TENANT 


9 


to meet than the pleasant eyes of Mrs. Norton, whose 
sweet face and gentle manner made May’s “ the dear- 
est mother ” seem fully justified. But Merle’s shy 
reserve was not easily overcome ; and, silently slipping 
into a chair to await May, who had descended for the 
syrup jug, she studiously avoided staring about the 
room, which already seemed wonderfully congenial 
and homelike, until a side-glance startled her out of 
her reserve. 

‘‘Oh my! the dear little thing! I had no idea there 
was a baby in the house,” she exclaimed, catching up 
a tiny shoe which lay beside a diminutive chair. 

“ I don’t wonder you are surprised, dear, for Boy 
is only two, and May is sixteen ; I lost two little girls 
between them. Roy is the only boy we had, and was 
very dear to his father.” 

As if in answer to his name, Roy set up a loud 
“ Mamma ” in the adjoining room, and Mrs. Norton 
hastened to answer his peremptory summons. Tak- 
ing advantage of her absence. Merle looked more de- 
liberately about the room. To one that saw but 
visually it offered small attraction, for the carpet was 
faded, the mop-boards nicked, the shades at vari- 
ance, the table littered; yet to Merle there was an 
atmosphere of home peace and contentment that was 
communicated to her in many ways. The canary 
that warbled in ecstasy to a pink oxalis, the tiny 


10 


MERLE AND MAY 


bread and butter finger-prints on the window glass, 
the big easy chairs that seemed to offer welcome in 
their capaciousness, the pile of dainty sewing that 
whispered a young girl’s secret, down to the tiny shoe 
lying in the sunshine, sent a thrill through IMerle’s 
sensitive frame. She felt her throat tighten and her 
eyes fill. This, this, was what she had longed for 
all these years, — home with its conscious love ; — and 
a boarding-house, with its cold, mercenary mistress, 
was what she had known. 

Mrs. Elliot had died when her girls were small, 
and the duties of motherhood had fallen on Della’s 
young shoulders. She was by temperament a 
scholar like her father, a child inclined to discount 
girlhood, and to look at life on its serious side. Cir- 
cumstances doubtless helped to make her self- 
sufficient and independent, quite inclined to make the 
world and its people over to her way of thinking. 
Certainly in years the girls were near enough to have 
been companionable, but utter dissimilarity^ in tem- 
perament served to make a wider breach than several 
years would have done between more congenial char- 
acters. To Della the care of Merle had been irksome 
from the start; a duty in which she found small re- 
turn. Merle’s dependence had never appealed to 
her ; her beauty had been a care, and her disposition 
a hydra-headed enigma. 


THE NEW TENANT 


n 


You ’d better come in here, dear, there ’s no know- 
ing when that madcap of a May will reappear. She’s 
probably washing the dishes she left this noon,” 
called Mrs. Norton from the adjoining room, rock- 
ing comfortably back and forth with a little yellow 
head pillowed on her arm. “ May is not fond of dish- 
washing,” she added apologetically, as if that fact 
were quite surprising ; “ but she means well, though 
she has to turn over a great many new leaves in the 
course of a year. I had a talk with her only this 
morning; for now that it is vacation, and Roy is fret- 
ful, and I ’m so busy with Grace’s sewing, she really 
must take hold.” 

“ Can I leave the kettles ? The water is n’t very 
warm and they ’re horrid greasy ! ” called up an ap- 
pealing voice from the lower regions. 

You will wash everything in the sink, and leave 
that kitchen in apple-pie order. Have you forgotten 
our talk so soon.^^ ” answered Mrs. Norton, with an 
heroic attempt at discipline which deluded no one, 
least of all the lively May. 

I wish to goodness we were sailors and threw our 
dishes overboard! Tell Grace to stop playing lady 
and come and help ; it won’t hurt her a bit — ‘ house- 
work ’s healthy,’ ” mimicked the burdened one, quot- 
ing a well-worn maternal maxim with laughable 


accuracy. 


12 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Will her sister be married soon ? ” ventured Merle, 
athirst to know something of this young girl’s 
romance. 

“ She ’ll be twenty this fall, and her father gave 
his consent that she should be married then ; but, 
she is not well — she had a little cough, — and we 
agreed that it would be best to set no date, but just 
to get ready comfortably. She loses nothing by a 
long engagement ; it ’s a very happy time, though I ’m 
not one to believe that all happiness ends with mar- 
riage; — I spent too many happy years myself for 
that,” concluded the dear woman with a misty glance 
at a fatherly face that smiled sweet hope from its 
f raming. 

“ Papa,” lisped the discerning baby, pointing with 
a moist and unsteady finger. Mrs. Norton wiped her 
eyes hastily, and pillowed the yellow head more closely 
against her widow’s gown, as if in thanksgiving for 
the little life that had been given her, though a more 
precious one was gone. 

“Mcther!” again proceeded from the basement, 
“ where on earth are the dish towels ? I can’t find 
but one, and Pickles has knocked that down and 
chewed it ! ” 

And your sister goes to college this fall.^ ” con- 
tinued ]\Irs. Norton, ignoring the call; — “that is 


THE NEW TENANT 


IS 


most as bad as a marriage, she ’ll be away so long. 
She must be a very clever girl to have won a 
scholarship.” 

“ She is clever,” admitted Merle with uncomfort- 
able surprise. Was n’t it just like Della, she thought, 
to air their poverty at the first interview.'^ Why was 
it necessary to speak of the scholarship, which was 
paramount to saying: — “Don’t think for a moment 
that my father could afford to send me.” Probably 
she had told that it had been necessary to borrow 
money to pay for their meagre furnishings, the blue 
carpet and chamber-set to boot! It was a mark of 
vulgarity, to Merle’s thinking, to wash one’s soiled 
linen in public. 

Merle was a blue blood, if one’s genealogical hobby 
were sufficiently strong to stand the tracing back of 
a half-century or two. On her father’s side had been 
men of wealth and distinction, scholars in their day. 
To her father this scholarly tendency had descended, 
but the wealth and distinction were lacking. He was 
an upright, kindly man, loyal to his girls to the best 
of his ability, but enveloped in an unworldly mist of 
study and theory that produced nothing more sub- 
stantial than a somewhat insufficient income. On 
her mother’s side had been wealth and the culture one 
naturally associates with it. To Della the scholar’s 


14 


MERLE AND MAY 


taste had been lianded down, to Merle the culture, 
wnth a strong pride and an inborn distaste for the 
commonplace. 

Mrs. Norton’s remark set Merle to ransacking her 
brain for another that should lead the conversation 
into a more restful channel, when a deafening and 
jarring crash echoed from the kitchen below. It 
scared the breath out of Merle, and sent Mrs. Nor- 
ton flying to the stairs with the small Roy on her arm. 

“May! May Norton!! what have you done! Are 
you hurt.^ ” called the dear woman, with no thought 
for anything, save the safety of her black sheep. 

“ It ’s all right,” w^as the stifled reply. “ It ’s — 
Pickles — and the dish towel,” came louder from 
the approaching voice. “ That makes two he ’s 
chewed,” said INIay, holding out the grimy remains, 
“ but — I ’ve taught him a lesson. I balanced the 
wash-boiler with the wringer and a couple of irons 
on top, so when he pulled at the towel, dowm they 
came. The wringer ’s broken, — and it dented the 
boiler, but the irons are all right ! ” 

“ And the dog.^ ” queried Mrs. Norton, to cover 
a surrendering cough. 

May sprang back into the kitchen, gave a worried 
look about the room, and was much relieved to see an 
inch or so of yellow tail that emerged from beside 
the stove leg. Falling prone, she peered under, in- 


THE NEW TENANT 


15 


tending to commiserate with the culprit, but instead 
gave a blood-curdling yell, so genuine that it pre- 
cipitated Mrs. Norton and Merle and Grace and 
even Della from the upper rooms down those back 
stairs in a manner that would have done justice to 
May’s own. 

Alas! Alas I Pickles was docked for life, but the 
attractiveness of dish towels had died as violent a 
death as his inch of yellow tail. 

The assembled party were lavish in their sympa- 
thy; and Pickles offered a forgiving wag of the ab- 
breviated member ; but May was inconsolable, even to 
Grace’s kindly, “After all, docked tails are fashion- 
able, you know,” and was finally dispatched, wet- 
eyed and with hysterical hiccoughs, to the grocery, 
to drown her grief in the purchase of syrup. 

Having assisted in this errand, and diverted May 
until she was her merry self again. Merle returned to 
her flat somewhat resigned to this new venture, which 
might after all offer more than it had promised, and 
quite in the mood to help to get things in running 
order. But the rooms were vacant save of up- 
heaval; no Della was anywhere visible; and not till 
she had wandered round several times did Merle come 
across this note: 


“ I have a standing invitation from Miss Stein to 


16 


MERLE AND MAY 


take tea and spend the night. Since you feel in- 
clined to suit yourself, I will follow your example. 
Father works at the laboratory to-night ; so you have 
no one to see to but yourself. Please have the cour- 
tesy to keep out of my room and leave my things 
alone. 

“ Dell.” 

Merle tossed the note aside and glanced about the 
disordered room, while a sickening wave of loneliness 
and homesickness swept over her. Why was it that 
she and Della were constantly at cross-roads? Did 
they need the sweet guiding presence of a mother 
like Mrs. Norton? Was the lack of sisterly love her 
fault or Della’s? The picture of Grace comforting 
the afflicted May rose before her, — the pretty, blonde 
head nestled against the frousled one, the kindly 
offer of her handkerchief to wipe away the pathetic 
tears, and the sisterly affection that forebore reproof 
and uncomplainingly washed the sink of greasy 
dishes which Pickles’ discipline had delayed. Imagine 
such a picture as that of her and Della! 

There was nothing very inviting to eat; many 
things had yet to be bought, and Della carried the 
family purse. “ I ’ll eat what there is ready or go 
without,” was Merle’s resolve as she wandered 
through the echoing rooms, though a slim supper for 


THE NEW TENANT 


17 


her meant a slim breakfast for her father, and he 
went early. Well, it was no more than she had 
painted beforehand, and he would see that her pic- 
ture of “ home ” was true to life. 

She threw herself on the little cot in her room; 
and her indignation at Della and the forlornness of 
this first night spent itself in a flood of tears. The 
odor of frying flap- jacks floated up from the base- 
ment kitchen, and made her hunger the keener. She 
could hear Mrs. Norton’s cheery laugh, the small 
Roy’s baby chatteir. May rattling dishes as she 
skipped back and forth, and the front door close 
as Grace let her lover in. Every one seemed to fill 
some sphere, to be loved and needed, but her. She 
was always lonely, always unhappy, always reaching 
out with an unsatisfied yearning that found no love 
to feed on. She pulled the pillow over her head to 
drown her sobbing and lay there till the light faded, 
and only shadows filled the room. Then suddenly she 
heard some one calling her, and sat erect, but before 
she could disguise the tears in her voice enough to 
answer. May bounded into the room. With the im- 
petuosity that was in her every breath, she flung 
herself on the cot and her arms around the sobbing 
girl. 

“ Something told me to come up,” said the tact- 
less one, “ for I was sure I saw — ahem — ‘ Miss Elliot ’ 


18 


MERLE AND MAY 


get on a car when I was in tlic store. I know just 
how you feel, — there ’s Pickles’ tail ” — with a sob and 
a gulp — “ and when mother said she ’d stirred up 
twice too much batter, and told me to ask if you 
wouldn’t come down and help us out, I just flew. 
Will ’s here ; and Willard Jenks — he ’s a neighbor — 
is coming over later, and Grace said she ’d make us 
some maple fudge. Just dash your face with cold 
water, give your hair a lick, — and ‘ mum ’s ’ the 
word.” 

Who could withstand the irresistible May.? Not 
even the reserved and unhappy Merle, who found 
herself in a wink of time supping at a merry table 
with a smiling hostess, who saw nothing amiss in the 
gray eyes ; or if she did she made no sign, but kept 
her guest’s plate piled with golden brown flap- jacks; 
while the convalescing Pickles sat in honor in Roy’s 
high-chair with his yellow tail in a bandage, licking 
syrup the while. 



IN A FLOOD OF TEARS 


• T 



A * 




% « 




t 


♦ 


1 



-- ,'fe ia'J S # 

H.. 

’IV,. 

, r" 

\rjR " 


CHAPTER n 


merle’s adventure 

“ May I bother you again ? ” 

“ It ’s no bother, dear,” smilingly answered Mrs. 
Norton ; come in whenever you like, without asking. 
I told Grace, when I bought this sewing-machine, that 
there was n’t a thing the matter with the old one 
except that it was out of date ; so I intend to get my 
money’s worth out of this one if use will do it. Mrs. 
Teal often runs down to stitch for an hour or two,- — 
it does lawns and muslins especially well; and I told 
Mrs. Jordan (her scamp of a husband has left her, 
and she ’s just found some plain sewing to do) to 
run over any time and use it to her heart’s content. 
Then Bridget often runs up her aprons on it. Of 
course she brings an odor — not sweet — with her; but 
I tell the girls the machine can’t absorb it, and it 
does n’t take but a moment to air out. I believe 
sewing-machines are very much like human beings 
after all — it ’s far better for them to wear out than 
to rust out.” 


19 


20 


MERLE AND MAY 


Merle stitched away on her seams, keeping a vigi- 
lant eye on the small Roy, for whom revolving wheels 
possessed a dangerous fascination. “ Now, I ’ll run 
down to press out these seams, and to take a look 
at my beans,” she said, presently. “ Can I do any- 
thing for you, Mrs. Norton.?” 

“ If you would just look at mine too, and if they ’re 
baking dry fill them up; it wdll save me a flight of 
stairs.” 

Merle stooped to shoulder Roy, who, with baby divi- 
nation, well knew wdiat arms were loyal in their open- 
ing; and having jounced down the stairs for his 
special edification, she straddled her laughing charge 
across the ironing-board, while the obliging Pickles 
offered his services as horse. 

Having doctored her beans after a housewifely in- 
spection, Merle slammed the oven door to, and was 
just rising to her feet, when a funereal figure loomed 
up from the dining-room. 

“ Oh ! Good-morning ! ” 

“ Good-morning, Mrs. Jones,” responded Merle 
with frigid dignity. Mrs. Jones was an aimless, 
inefficient woman, who for fifty years had led an ab- 
solutely purposeless life, — a species of cousinly 
parasite, whose weekly visits formed a very substan- 
tial skeleton in the closet of long-suffering relatives. 


MERLE^S ADVENTURE 


21 


With advancing years IVlrs. Jones’ itinerary grew 
shorter in inverse ratio, till it seemed to the long- 
suffering ]\Iay as though her mother’s pantry, re- 
frigerator, and tea-pot were never free from this 
well-nigh ubiquitous person. INIay hated her cor- 
dially, and took small pains to conceal it. She once 
locked her into the pantry when her mother had gone 
to Boston ; she filled the tea-pot with hops ; and com- 
ing on her unexpectedly in the dingy cellar, foraging 
in the refrigerator, she nearly guillotined her with 
its cover. Yet Mrs. Jones never took offence. She 
was politic enough, too, not to establish dangerous 
precedents in the way of dish-washing or any simi- 
lar favor, though May threw numberless opportuni- 
ties in her path. 

Merle, reflecting May’s attitude, speedily turned 
her back on the unwelcome visitor, and banged away 
on her seams, being careful of pink fingers and yel- 
low tails. 

It ’s simply astonishing how capable those girls 
are,” remarked Mrs. Norton to her mother-in-law, 
otherwise “ Ganny,” who was up for her weekly visit, 
as the door closed on Merle. “ There is n’t anything 
they can’t do, and do well. Della cooks and cleans 
and sews like a woman, and finds hours to study, too. 
I suppose such experience is great discipline, but 


22 


MERLE AND MAY 


dear me ! she can’t be young but once, and ‘ all work 
and no play ’ is n’t good for her, I fear. It tends 
to harden some temperaments.” 

“And Miss INIerle? ” questioned Ganny, darning 
away on a tiny pink sock. 

“ Merle helps.” 

“ Under protest ? ” 

“ Well — yes — perhaps so ; but ]\Ierle is different. 
I suspect she suppresses herself with her sister, she 
is so genial when she is with May,” replied IVIrs. Nor- 
ton, loath to admit a fault in a girl to whom the fret- 
ful Roy went quite as willingly as to his mother. 

“ She is very beautiful; I love to look at her; yet 
there is something about her that does n’t just suit,” 
said old-fashioned Ganny. 

“ I think I know what you mean, I ’ve noticed it 
too. It ’s an air of reserve, of pride, of indifference — 
call it what you will — that ’s too cold for a girl. It 
is the result, I fancy, that naturally follows when 
a sensitive temperament meets with constant misun- 
derstanding, until it creeps into and feeds upon it- 
self. For Merle has a heart, and a very loving one 
too, — I have seen that numberless times with Roy 
when she did n’t know that I was by. What she needs 
is appreciation, a loving influence in her life, some- 
thing, I fear, she has never had, — a purpose too, 
sometliing to strive for. I can’t help feeling that 


MERLFJS ADVENTURE 


23 


beauty of face should have its complement in beauty 
of character.” 

The girls had indeed proved themselves capable, 
for the little flat was soon settled, and its machinery 
in running order. This day was Saturday, and 
Della had cooked and cleaned and sewed “ like a 
woman.” Merle had helped “ under protest.” She 
had washed dishes, made beds, run errands, and flown 
up and down stairs numberless times, for Mrs. Nor- 
ton had extended the use of her kitchen, and gener- 
ously shared most of its furnishings. 

Put your beans right in my oven,” she said cor- 
dially ; “ there is plenty of room, and it would be a 
pity for you to run a hot fire all day just for them. 
Besides I have a notion that beans have a better 
flavor when baked in a social atmosphere,” laughed 
the kindly woman, whose life was so rich in flavor 
from its sauce of everyday kindness. 

Merle had played second fiddle to Della with un- 
usual docility this Saturday; and having finished by 
taking a bath and a shampoo, she now sat in the bay 
window of their little sitting-room, darning stock- 
ings, with her glossy hair spread out to dry. She 
hummed a little tune, and one foot kept time to its 
rhythm on the rung of a chair. 

Della sat near, severely trim and neat, with her 
hair arranged in the simplest and most unbecoming 




MERLE AND MAY 


way, and not a f rill nor a bow anywhere visible on her 
scholarly person. Two broad, sensible, low-heeled 
shoes reposed on a hassock, and she rocked slowly 
back and forth amidst a wilderness of text-books. 

‘‘For goodness’ sake!” she exclaimed suddenly, 
“ can’t you keep still when you see what I am try- 
ing to do ? ” 

Merle glanced at her and paused a moment; then 
the tune and the tattoo began again. 

Did you not hear what I said.^ Why must you 
keep drumming and humming when I want to 
study.? ” 

The humming broke into audible words : 

“ The lightning breaks across the lakes. 

And the wild cataract le-aps in glo-RY ! ” 

There was a prolonged shriek on the last syllable, 
and the tattoo matched the increase in volume. 

Your manners are getting to be simply insuffer- 
able,” said Della with suppressed rage. “ Who your 
compomions are ” 

The neighborhood is of your own choosing.” 

“ Pardon — the fault is mine. One room lias never 
yet proved large enough for us both, as I should have 
remembered,” said Della, piling up her books. “When 
I ’m gone, and you taste a little responsibility for the 
first time in your life, perhaps you ’ll look back and 
realize how little you did to help me.” 


MERLE^S ADVENTURE 


25 


I never look back — it ’s far too painful ; but I 
look forward often, and just now I bn counting the 
days for you to go ! ” 

Merle’s eyes met her sister’s and never wavered ; she 
was calmness itself ; but Della’s eyes flashed, and two 
little spots throbbed over the corners of her mouth. 
Snatching up the remainder of her books, she marched 
down the hall, slammed and locked her door. Merle 
dropped her darning, and no humming returned to 
her lips. How little it mattered, after all, whether 
she did her share or not! There was never a mo- 
ment’s peace or pleasure. 

She bundled the stockings into her basket, and 
passed quietly down the hall into her own room. It 
was dim, for the day had been warm and she had 
closed the blinds. She threw them open now, and 
sat down to brush out her drying hair, and to enjoy, 
if possible, the view. 

The neighboring house was an old-fashioned, sub- 
stantial one, with tall colonial pillars and a broad 
porch. The grounds were very pretty, and extensive 
by comparison, the lot being a corner one. Its owner 
was abroad indefinitely, but it had been leased for 
some months to a Captain White. He came appar- 
ently alone, save for servants, and excited no little 
curiosity. He was a tall, distinguished looking 
man, as unbending in manner as in bearing, and it 


26 


MERLE AND MAY 


was understood in very short order tliat the Captain 
would not be at home to neighborhood callers- In 
the course of a few weeks a young and charming 
wife appeared, certainly young enough to be his 
daughter, and in fact a bride. Merle had often en- 
joyed the picture that she made, strolling about the 
grounds in soft, fluffy lawns, with a magnificent mas- 
tiff at her side. The gossips had scarcely recHDvered 
from this shock, when a son appeared; a young man 
of nineteen or so, who, rumor said, had been away 
at school. Stories soon floated about of his un- 
happy and lonely life and of the Captain’s uncom- 
promising severity. 

The blind swung to, and in reaching out to re- 
fasten it, IMerle speedily bounced back with her fly- 
ing hair, for beneath the tree, under her window, lay 
the “ White boy.” She had seen him before, of 
course, had passed him many times on the street, and 
had often wondered if they would ever know each 
other, and if so, how it would come about. IMay had 
been very open in her admiration of him, had even 
pointed out to Merle how plainly he showed that he 
was thirsting for their acquaintance, and had coaxed 
her goddess to unbend and bow in a neighborly way ; 
but Merle had very rigid ideas of propriety, and con- 
tinued to ignore the “ White boy,” though it was 



STROLLING ABOUT THE GROUNDS 



MERLE^S ADVENTURE 


27 


daily becoming more difficult to pass him indiffer- 
ently than to recognize him modestly as her neighbor. 

The pleasure of her view being broken, Merle 
brushed her hair dry, dressed herself and repaired to 
the kitchen below in quest of diversion. May was in 
the throes of dish-washing and baby-tending, and as 
cross as a disturbed porcupine. Merle’s mood 
matched, and having sympathized with each other in 
misery, and exchanged sentiments on housework in 
general and Saturday’s in particular, the girls put 
their heads together to devise some lark that should 
make amends for a hitherto disastrous day. 

“ There was ten cents change left from the errands 
this morning, and if what I ’ve done to-day does n’t 
make it honest to take it, then I ’ll thieve ! ” an- 
nounced jMerle savagely, having nearly scalded her 
eyebrows off in peering into her beans. 

‘‘I’ve got five, and we could go on a regular ‘bust’ 
if it was n’t for him,” said IVlay, shaking a greasy 
frying pan at the inoffensive baby. “ Day — day,” 
cooed Koy, pointing to his carriage, quite uncon- 
scious of any disappointment ahead. 

“ Oh, well, I might as well learn to posses my soul 
in patience, for babies and dishes will dog me to the 
grave. Even so sage a philosopher as Emerson, you 
know, has observed that there is no country under 


28 


MERLE AND MAY 


the sun where they don’t wash the pans and spank 
tlie babies,” observed the student of Emersonian lore. 

]\Ierle reflected a moment, and then made several 
gestures, interspersed with suggestive winks, as a 
possible avenue of escape dawned upon her, and hav- 
ing decoyed Hoy into a pick-a-back ride up the back 
stairs, to the sitting-room and his mother, with prom- 
ises of mountains of candy, she threw duty to the 
four winds, and, hastily escaping out of the back 
door, soon joined May who was anxiously awaiting 
her at the corner. 

“ Let ’s invest in a cocoanut, some limes, and a pint 
of peanuts, and have a treat on the shed roof,” sug- 
gested Merle. ‘‘ It ’s cool there under the tree, and 
if we creep round no one can see us.” 

This shed sheltered the family ash barrels, but its 
roof was conveniently low, its slant not too perilous, 
and no inconvenient windows of either house were 
witliin range, though it stood close to the dividing 
fence. An accommodating tree in the Whites’ 
grounds shaded it, a group of lilacs screened it, and 
the girls often spent whole hours sewing or lounging 
in its shade. 

“ Bless me, here ’s Willard ! ” exclaimed May, as 
a tall, six-footer of a lad loomed in sight. 

Hullo, qu^est ce que sur le tapis, inquired the lad 
with a gallant tip of his cap. 


MERLE’S ADVENTURE 


29 


“ Nothing, absolutely nothing ; it ’s the dullest day 
I ever endured. Merle and I are trying to drown our 
woes in a few indigestibles.” 

‘‘ I wish I might drown mine as easily. May I 
inquire when and where the feast will be partaken? ” 

“ On the ash-barrel shed ! If that sounds enticing, 
and your question veiled a hint, you may come — pro- 
viding you make your contribution, too,” added the 
diplomatic May- 

Having safely escaped maternal and infantile eyes, 
the party climbed the board fence, and disappeared 
on the shed roof beneath the accommodating tree. 

“ I ’ll stump you to walk that fence wdth the 
cocoanut on your head,” suggested May, after awhile, 
athirst for adventure. 

“ Very w^ell,” said Willard, jumping to his feet. 

‘‘No! Ladies first,” laughed May, snatching 
the cocoanut and offering it to Merle. “ Here, take 
a lime-pickle in each hand; those Japanese jugglers 
always carry ballast.” 

Merle, quite ignorant of May’s motives, started 
out bravely and glided gracefully along the narrow 
raile with whispered encouragement from the pair 
behind. She was just nearing the end and cons-ider- 
ing the best way to turn, when her eyes suddenly 
lighted on the recumbent figure of the; “ White boy ” 
on the ground, just below her. The sight startled 


'30 


MERLE AND MAY 


and unnerved her; she felt herself sway, made two 
or three abortive grabs at a near-hy sapling, and fell 
in an ignominious heap on the wrong side of the 
fence. 

Before she had time to collect herself she saw a 
lithe figure spring to its feet, and two substantial 
hands held out to her relief. Disgust at her adven- 
ture and wrath at May, whom she at once suspected 
of foreseeing this result, sent the blood to her cheeks. 

“ I — May — that is, we — ” floundered the unhappy 
Mer^e. 

“ Don’t mention it,” said the young man, evi- 
dently enjoying the encounter. “ I thought your 
trapeze act very graceful, even if you did end by 
poaching on my preserves.” 

Merle gave a despairing glance at the fence, which 
seemed to have miraculously grown in height, and 
then to the path. But the sight of a heavy cocoanut 
flying down the concrete walk, followed in hot pursuit 
by two vulgar pickled limes, was not reassuring. 

I ’ve been wishing to meet you. Miss Elliot,” con- 
tinued the young man, breaking an awkward pause, 
and gallently offering his hand. But Merle’s dig- 
nity had recovered from its shock, and she instantly 
froze at this familiarity. The knowledge, too, that 
four merry blue eyes were peering through the in- 
terstics of the lilac bush hastened her resolve to 


MERLE^S ADVENTURE 


31 


cut short ^their entertainment. Merle certainly knew 
his name as well as her own, but she was a true 
daughter of Eve and knew perfectly how to 
dissemble. 

“ You have the advantage of me, I fear,” was her 
booky reply, as she offered tentatively the tips of 
four pickle-lime moistened fingers. 

-My name ’s Bob White,” said the lad, uncover- 
ing, and suppressing a smile. 

-Any relation to the Partridge family?” said 
Merle quickly ; - you spoke of poaching.” 

Bob threw back his head in a peal of merry laugh- 
ter, and for a moment had the satisfaction of seeing 
a dimple born in his companion’s cheek. This quick 
appreciation of her joke evidently mollified Merle, 
for she thawed visibly and said in quite a confidential 
tone: - I should simply drop dead if your father 
came out and found me here. I shall have to ask you 
to let me pass through the grounds and out of the 
gate.” 

- The Captain ’s away, and Mrs. White too. I ’m 
horrid lonely — would you mind? I hope it ’s not pre- 
suming to ask, — but it ’s nice and cool on my piazza.” 

- I ’m not alone. I have company on — on the shed 
roof.” 

- I know ; I saw Miss May ; and you will come if 
I invite them? ” 


32 


MERLE AND MAY 


Merle allowed a decent time for the eavesdroppers 
to gain the shed, and then called to them. May 
snapped at the invitation, and speedily appeared on 
the fence rail with a wet bag of pickled limes in one 
hand and a pint of peanuts in the other. Willard 
brought up the rear with a bottle of cheap olives 
and two stale ginger ales. Merle suppressed any 
expression of her feelings, but wondered what 
the White boy ” would think of her and her 
companions. 

After the introductions, w^hile the group were ex- 
changing commonplaces. Merle found time to con- 
gratulate herself on a wisdom that had prompted 
her to put on her light blue gingham, which “ V ’d 
slightly at the throat and was very becoming, with 
a new hair ribbon which matched. 

“ I hn so glad to meet you all,” said Bob, with 
easy courtesy, having relinquished Willard’s hand 
after a firm grip of friendship. “ Being away at 
school, and my family living here so short a time, I 
know scarcely any of the young people about here. 
I suppose I shall fare better next fall at college, 
now that I live near.” 

Shake, I ’m a college man too,” said Willard. 

“ Crimson? ” 

“ Shake again.” 

“ I expected some old friends, but they have just 


MERLE'S ADVENTURE 


33 


sent me a regret, so I shall feel especially grateful 
to you all in helping me out of a dull afternoon,” 
said the host leading the way to the piazza. 

No group could long suffer from formality where 
Madcap May figured, and just here she broke all re- 
straint by making a wild dash after the runaway 
cocoanut. Refusing all offers of assistance. May 
gave it a sharp crack on the piazza rail. The oblig- 
ing cocoanut did the expected — likewise the unex- 
pected. It parted in two, it also parted with its 
milky contents, bestowing the latter in May’s pink 
lap. Nothing daunted, she seized the olive bottle 
and poked and wrestled with its obstinate cork. The 
cork finally yielded, but instead of flying out, it 
flew in, the bottle turned a somersault, and its briny 
contents decorated what little of her dress the cocoa- 
nut had unavoidably left. 

“ Never mind, brine or lime, whatever it is, sets 
the color,” said May cheerfully, holding out a 
drenched breadth to the breeze, as she dropped ex- 
hausted into her chair. But her rest was short, for 
a wail from the group sent her flying to her feet, and 
turning, poor May disclosed a wet bag and four flat 
and juiceless limes. 

“ Oh ! my precious, precious limes, where has all 
their juice gone!” 

‘‘ Just look at the back of you, and you ’ll see 


34 


MERLE AND MAY 


where most of it went. Oh IMay ! you ’re a sight for 
gods and men.” 

“ Never mind ! ” said the unfortunate one, taking 
a rueful look at her back breadth, “ it matches the 
front, and it ’s nice to be consistent, you know. But 
do let ’s eat while there ’s something left, — that is, 
just as soon as our host offers his contribution. 
This is a Dutch treat, sir, and we’ll give you just 
five minutes ! ’ 

‘‘ I ’ll do my best, ma’am,” and so saying Bob 
made a military salute and disappeared. 

After having nicely dusted every porch chair with 
her damp back breadth in testing their comfort. May 
managed to subside- As for Merle, she lounged lux- 
uriously in a fringed hammock, translated to the 
seventh heaven of bliss. All thought of her hard 
day and its uncomfortable climax drifted from her 
mind, and she found ample reason to bless that wily 
cocoanut. She had had very little merry companion- 
ship in her eighteen years, — far too little. 

Bob shortly reappeared, bearing a plate of frosted 
dainties, with a servant in tow, struggling with the 
weight of an ice-cream freezer. The sight of this 
upset May’s momentary calm, for she dropped to 
her knees and embraced the freezer with such mock 
devotion, that the faultless and expro3sionless John 


MERLE^S ADVENTURE 


35 


fled coughing. Bob dished and Merle served, May 
being discreet enough to keep her fatal fingers out 
of so sweet a pie. 

How fortunate it was that you were under the 
tree, and we should choose the shed,” observed May, 
familiarly, pausing at a blissful mouthful. “You 
Avere lonely and so w^ere we ; and now we ’re having a 
jolly good time. It’s like grammer isn’t it? two 
negatives make an affirmative! When w'e finish, you 
must give us some music. Merle loves to hear you 
practise, and often listens behind her blinds, that is 
— I mean if she ’s dusting round or ” 

“ I ’ll show you over the house if you like, but 
we ’ll leave the music to you ladies,” said Bob, ignor- 
ing May’s confusion and Merle’s blush. 

Bob led his guests through the rooms, which were 
Avell w^orth inspecting, for the Captain was a much- 
travelled man, and had many curios of value. Be- 
sides, the rooms Avere neAvly and elegantly furnished, 
probably in behalf of the young bride, and Merle 
found her eyes dilating, in spite of her attempt at 
well-bred indifference. 

“Will you play. Miss Merle?” invited the host 
Avhen, curios and pictures being exhausted, he led 
the Avay to the music room and opened the grand 
piano. 


36 


MERLE AND MAY 


I wish I could,” said Merle, regretfully. Music 
was the one passion of her life. Ever since she 
could remember she had longed for it, but a boarding 
house had proved a poor place for the cultivation of 
the aesthetic. 

“And you. Miss May ? ” asked Bob, politely 
evincing no suprise at Merle’s deficiency. 

May made no demur, but rattled stormily for a 
few moments, then willingly relinquished her place to 
Willard. Willard obligingly dashed off a few selec- 
tions of the college variety, but gave evidence of a 
strong inclination to yawn. 

“ Now you need n’t close the piano and think 
you ’re going to wriggle out of it, so don’t try. I ’ve 
heard you practise and I know what you can do,” 
said May author atatively. Bob laughed and reluct- 
antly seated himself. Perhaps he had refused out 
of courtesy to his unaccomplished guest, though a 
small audience sometimes affected him more than a 
roomful. He began nervously, but soon lost con- 
sciousness of himself. He was very sensitive, and 
his lonely life had made music dear to him. 

Merle sat pillowed on a satin couch, its rich orange 
making a pleasing background to her blue dress. 
She was out of range of any eyes, so allowed her 
own full license. May had wandered to the farther 
end of the room, and moved restlessly about examin- 


MERLE’S ADVENTURE 


37 


ing the curios, while Willard followed, explaining 
her questioning winks in pantomime. 

The luxury of the room’s furnishings catered to 
Merle’s artistic sense, yet the sight made a painful 
contrast with her own plain, poor little home. Her 
eyes wandered from the rich rugs on the polished 
floor, the paintings which stood out in bas-relief 
against a wall of softest green, the heavy cream of 
the window draperies, the choice and well-placed bric- 
a-brac, to the mahogany grand piano and the young 
man seated at the ivory keys. A tiny ray of sun- 
light, glinting in through the rich draperies, lighted 
up the well-shaped head with its mass of hair, and 
brought out sharply the finely cut profile. 

Merle’s eyes lingered on the face, and she found 
herself speculating on the rumors she had heard. 
Was it true, in a home of such luxury, that one could 
be unhappy, too.? Did he know, like herself, what 
it meant to be unloved, unnecessary, misunderstood.? 
She recalled that during the afternoon he had not 
once said ‘‘ my father,” but had alluded to that per- 
son as ‘‘ the Captain,” and in somewhat distant tones. 
Something about the face, together with the nature 
of the music being played, answered Merle’s musing, 
and she felt a sudden wave of sympathy for one who 
possibly suffered like herself. 

The music stopped, the performer wheeled abruptly 


38 


MERLE AND MAY 


round, and the brown eyes surprised the gray ones 
in their dreamy sympathy. Then the gray eyes were 
veiled, and the color mounted in Merle’s face. 

“ Is this heathen god a IMohammedan or a Bud- 
dhist ” came May’s abrupt but never so welcome 
voice. “ He fascinates me ; I can’t keep my eyes off.” 
“ You ’d far better put them on the clock,” laughed 
Merle, rising, “ else our host will have reason to think 
us some relation to his heathen god ! ” 

‘‘ Do you know,” continued May with a reluctant 
sigh, “ if I were let loose in this room and could have 
anything for the choosing, I think I ’d take this little 
god. He looks dejected; — I have a feeling that 
somewhere in the past aeons his soul was burdened. I 
think he washed dishes ! ” 

“And you. Miss IMerle,” laughed Bob, following his 
guests to the porch, “ if you were to be let loose, 
what would be your choosing.? ” 

“ I,” said Merle, her eyes avoiding the questioner’s, 
“ I should choose your music.” 


CHAPTER III 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 

Della had packed her modest trunk with still more 
modest clothes, and had gone. The parting between 
the sisters was somewhat formal, though Merle had 
been a model of docility the last few days. Indeed, 
now that the parting was over, and the plain little 
figure started down the platform walk, she felt a 
sudden wave of remorse sweep over her, and for an 
instant felt like flying after her sister, and wishing 
her all possible luck in her brave undertaking. But 
the almost inconceivable relief Merle felt in her going 
might, perhaps, account for this magnanimity, for 
to Merle the playing of second fiddle had been a role 
she had never yet filled gracefully. 

With a light step and a heart bounding with ex- 
citement, then, Merle turned homeward, eager to as- 
sume the reigns of domestic government. Her father, 
with a scholar’s distaste for the practical, had 
readily agreed that she should take Della’s place and 
manage the money, which meant his weekly salary, 
less a modest deduction for his personal expenses. 


39 


40 


MERLE AND MAY 


Merle set to work with praiseworthy system, paid 
several bills that were in arrears, and settled with 
Mrs. Norton for the rent which was likewise behind. 
She started a housewifely account book, apportion- 
ing sums here and there for necessities, and was 
amazed at the vast amount left for “ sundries.” She 
had always felt that Della was a poor manager, and 
here was proof. Visions of a new dress, a jaunty hat, 
and a full supply of gloves and ribbons, to say noth- 
ing of the realization of a little plan that had sim- 
mered in her brain all summer, made ample amends 
for such housework as would fall to her. Her father 
breakfasted early and would wait on himself ; he had 
his dinner in the city and often his supper, too, if 
he worked late; she would afford Bridget once a week, 
since school was now in session and she must have 
time to study, — and, well, it really looked as if the 
house would keep itself. 

IMay exulted in her enrolment as “ chief cook and 
bottle washer,” as she expressed it, and was untiring 
in her help. Dish-washing that dragged downstairs 
was great fun upstairs; messes that would have 
turned her freckled nose out of joint at home she 
here swallowed willingly; banquets were held in these 
upper rooms several times a week, and candy pulls 
were of nightly indulgence. 

May could not have first met Merle more fittingly 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 41 


than in the statue shrine on the front stairs- Met- 
aphorically speaking, she had never risen from her 
knees, but worshipped daily at the feet of a goddess 
most willing to assume the role. Impetuous and 
frolicsome, unmindful of her dress and dignity, with 
an ability to shed responsibility as instinctively as 
a duck sheds water. May, nevertheless, was generous 
to appreciate what she most lacked. Merle’s beauty, 
a dignity that held her above petty meannesses, a 
certain aloofness that made the slightest unbending 
seem a favor, together with her easy scholarship, 
made her to May a veritable oracle at whose slightest 
niutterings she strained a willing ear. As for May, 
she loved study as dearly as a colt loves a halter, and 
if Providence had kindly allowed her the management 
of her own affairs, she would have consigned school 
and its curriculum to the “demnition bow-wows.” She 
wrestled with history and English; floundered in a 
delusive and miry maze of French irregular verbs; 
struggled with Civil Government, wishing all the fram- 
ers of the Constitution, individually and collectively, 
in a fiery furnace; and came to total shipwreck on 
the rock of plane geometry, the only “ plain ” thing 
about it being, she averred, its invention by Beelzebub. 
Yet even these struggles were insufficient to curb 
May’s love of fun ; as a consequence of which she 
spent many study hours in the august presence of the 


42 


MERLE AND MAY 


master, to whose sanctum she was often dismissed 
“ to think it over.” May did think it over, and, witli 
a repentance as impetuous as her fun, promised to 
make amends. 

Merle was studious, reliable, somewhat serious, re- 
served, and dignified, with an eye to her “ manners ” 
and to the details of her neat and becoming toilet. 
May, on the contrary, was not serious ; she had never 
been serious for five consecutive minutes ; and dignity 
and reserve found no resting place on this merry, 
fly-away little woman. Yet, opposite as they were, 
the two temperaments dovetailed, and a most sweet 
and enduring friendship was the result. 

The plan which ]\Ierle had made for herself was 
put in execution as soon as Della was safely off. It 
had taken definite form the day her “ trapeze act ” 
had led her into such a pleasant afternoon. When 
Bob had asked her to play, she had hidden her mor- 
tification, but she felt keenly his surprise, and the 
disadvantage at which a girl must appear who could 
contribute nothing as her share to an entertainment. 
She could neither dance, play, nor sing; and she 
decided that her education should be mended at once, 
at least in one line. Della’s presence had made such 
a step impossible ; Della had no sympathy with the 
aesthetic, not being troubled with cravings in that line 
herself. She had no faith in Merle’s aspirations, and 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 43 


concerned herself with them only to thwart them. 
‘‘ The very day before she left,” mused Merle, “ she 
made fun of me because I was reading Romola, and 
said I was trying to pose because I knew George 
Eliot was a great writer, and afterward inquired if 
I had ever heard of Savonarola ! ” In such an atmos- 
phere music lessons were not to be thought of, but 
the atmosphere had happily changed, and with it 
Merle’s plan went into effect. Weekly she visited a 
certain street, pulled a certain door-bell, and disap- 
peared. Later she emerged with sparkling eyes, a 
quick step, and a heart throbbing beneath the music 
folded under her coat. It seemed to Merle as if 
everybody must know it was there ; and many were 
the painful starts she got in making her clandestine 
pilgrimages. IVIay’s bright eyes, she felt, must 
surely pierce the veil ; and she was in daily terror lest 
Grace should divine that all this practising meant 
something. But she had drummed more or less all 
summer; Mrs. Norton was as free with her parlor 
and its furnishings as with all else; and Grace had 
often helped her with difficult passages, — difficult, at 
least, to Merle’s inexperience. 

For several weeks the housekeeping flourished, and 
affairs seemed to be moving along on well-oiled 
wheels. There was no one to “ boss ” her, no one 
to wrangle with; a snug little nest-egg, laid by from 


44 


MERLE AND MAY 


the weekly allowance, would soon hatch into the much- 
needed gown and other things longed for; there were 
occasional “ outings ” with the boys home from col- 
lege, and a daily diet of doughnuts, lemon pie, and 
soda ! 

Then suddenly the light died out of her horizon, 
and the aspect of things was mightily changed. Not 
that her day turned into night by any Cinderella 
process, but it turned nevertheless, however subtly, 
till even the blindest would have owned it night. 

The cold weather put an end to out-door frolic ; the 
housework dragged, Bridget not being able to ac- 
complish a week’s work in one day; poor May de- 
serted the ranks, not even her love for her goddess 
enabling her longer to simulate a j oy in dish- washing ; 
her school studies became more exacting and made 
practising a bore ; and the occasional outing with the 
boys had died a natural death. Bob was absorbed in 
his college, and obliged to attend strictly to business 
under the parental eye ; and Merle had grown shy of 
accepting favors she could not return in hospitality. 
She had refused one or two treats, somewhat coldly, 
and Bob had vowed not to repeat the courtesy, little 
dreaming that poor Merle had ended her day by 
crying herself to sleep. 

But the last straw on the camel’s back came in 
the mail. It was a letter from Della asking for in- 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 45 


stant funds. She had learned, to her disgust, that 
Merle managed the purse strings; and she sarcas- 
tically intimated that, now the money was in such effi- 
cient hands, doubtless the draft would not be felt. 
Shamed to admit that the money did not spread out 
as widely as it promised at first, and in terror lest 
Della should divine a leakage and find out about the 
music lessons. Merle mailed her nest-egg, went with- 
out her gown, lost heart in everything, and openly 
rebelled to her father about the housework. She 
refused to handle the money again, feeling it only 
fair that he should do some of the planning and face 
a little of the music of unpaid bills ; in short, washed 
her hands of the whole business, and was thoroughly 
wretched and unhappy. 

Coming home one especially cold day, tired and 
hungry. Merle tossed her books down in the little 
sitting-room and looked around. The fire was out, 
the stove choked with ashes, the floor littered with 
the evening paper and little paths of sawdust from 
a leaky hassock, and on the window sill a sticky tum- 
bler. Dust lay on everything, and the atmosphere 
of the room was forlorn and repellent. In the kitchen 
the range was fireless, the sink full of dishes, and 
the pantry innocent of anything tempting. Merle 
donned her apron, ignoring her empty stomach and 
aching head, and shook down the parlor stove with 


46 


MERLE AND MAY 


spiteful energy. She slioiildered her hod of ashes 
and soon returned from tlie cellar with a full hod and 
some kindling. But the fire must have imbibed some 
of the generally depressing atmosphere, for it splut- 
tered and died out, leaving nothing but a dirty trail 
of smoke. Merle gulped down a sob, fished out the 
charred kindlings and began again, adding a liberal 
cup of kerosene. “ If it blows me up, it ’s nothing 
more than I ’d be thankful for,” said the burdened 
one, viewing her rough and grimy hands. 

But the kerosene failed to oblige her in this re- 
spect; neither did the kindlings do their duty, for 
again they crackled and died out, bringing the sobs 
nearer the surface. Merle had no heart left to start 
the kitchen range, so put her water on the oil-stove 
(after filling it) and gained time by throwing the 
beds together while waiting for it to heat. Return- 
ing to her sink of dishes her heart sank within her, 
for the kitchen presented a sight that was black 
indeed. The wicks of the stove had been turned too 
high, and a raven mist of carbon coated every object 
in the room. The ceiling was a sight for the white- 
washer, the curtains fit for the tub, likewise the table- 
cloth — not a dish, chair, nook, or cranny but was 
covered with this insidious fall of sooty snow; the 
kettle might have been the coal-hod, so far as color 
was concerned, and even the air was tangible. 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 47 


Merle turned out the light, threw up the windows, 
and slapped through her sink of dishes in an atmos- 
phere as cold and black as her heart’s broodings. 
Bundling into her coat she returned to the cold sit- 
ting-room, and threw herself down beside the bag 
of books to grind for the examinations which were 
looming up in near perspective. She hoped her 
father would come home early and witness her mis- 
ery, and a moment later, as if in answer to her wish, 
came the well-known tread stumbling up the dark 
stairs. INIerle remained seated, not opening her door 
to light his way, but instead turned up her coat col- 
lar that she might heighten the effect of her abject 
condition. Her “ Good-evening ” was as cold as the 
room, her air of indifference as forbidding. The sen- 
sitive temperament of the Philosopher soon perceived 
that something was amiss, and he retired to the 
kitchen. 

He ’s always talking about his skill at cooking 
in camp, — I ’ll let him try it to-night, and see 
how he likes it after a hard day’s work,” thought 
Merle bitterly. “ It ’s no more than I do every 
day.” 

She heard her father start the range; soon steak 
was frying and cocoa boiling. The appetizing odor 
reached her cold nose, and was not to be withstood. 
Merle unbent sufficiently to be the silent partner 


48 


MERLE AND MAY 


to the meal, but treated all overtures with injured 
indifference. At he conclusion of the Quaker meeting 
she stacked the dishes in the sink with voluble sighs, 
and, remarking that she had had sufficient dish-wash- 
ing for one day, caught up one of Scott’s novels and 
started down-stairs to find a little joy, if possible, in 
visiting May, or at least to thaw out before turning 
into an icy bed. 

In a desperate mood May had locked herself into 
the library, for the nightmare of examinations spoiled 
her waking hours, too. The occasional slam of a 
book, groans, and grating chair-rungs — indicative 
of physical writhings as an outlet to mental torture 
— marked May’s thorny progress through the path 
of learning. From the parlor came the subdued hum 
of the lovers’ voices, with now and then a quick little 
cough — the serpent in the Garden of Eden. INIrs. 
Norton sat rocking Roy wrapped in a shawl, ten 
pink toes visible at one end, and at the other his 
pretty golden head lighted with the soft glow of the 
shaded lamp. Roy had made his good-night rounds, 
dispensing liberally from his little “ honey-pot,” and 
had taken the express for dreamland. He was near- 
ing his journey’s end when Merle’s entrance roused 
him, and he offered a sleepy kiss, moist but loving. 
Merle accepted the offering with open arms (this 
was in the good old days before microbes bred 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE 7V ASHER. 49 


in baby-kisses) and her tired face softened 
wonderf ully . 

Mrs. Norton set Roy’s train in motion again, and 

Merle buried herself in her favorite chair and opened 

her book. Now and then Mrs. Norton glanced at 

the girl, a glance at once troubled, sympathetic, and 

full of motherly concern. Her discerning eyes saw 

a great deal — had been seeing a great deal for some 

weeks, — and such an opportunity as the present 

offered was not to be lost. 

“ Is your book interesting. Merle? ” 

‘‘ Not in the least! ” 

“Pray, why do you read it then?” 

“ Why does any one do things she does n’t like ? 

We are obliged to read one of Scott’s novels and 

write our opinion of it ; as if I, with no notion of 
✓ 

literary form, could criticise Scott I ” said poor Merle, 
with some show of reason. “ I ’d just as lief have 
one of Beethoven’s symphonies to analyze, and I 
shall hate Scott for the rest of my life, I know. It ’s 
nothing but work and dirt, study and grind from 
morning till night. I wish I ’d never been born I ” 
with a suppressed sob. 

“What did you have for dinner, Merle?” 

“ I did n't have any — that is, I had some cocoanut 
cakes at recess. 

“Is your sitting-room warm? did the fire keep?” 


50 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ No, it ’s out.” 

‘‘ You built it up.P ” 

“ I tried to, but I suppose the kindling was damp. 
It would n’t light — I ’m so sick of housekeeping ! I 
knew I’d hate it — it’s so hard — when other girls have 
everything smoothed from their paths, with parents 
to bribe them to do well, — it ’s so hard to have the 
care and work of a woman, with the studies and re- 
quirements of a girl, too. But father can’t see it — 
he can’t see anything but his hobbies ! ” concluded 
Merle with hysterical sobs that were past control 
now. 

However much Mrs. Norton’s heart bled for the 
girl, however much she longed to open her arms and 
comfort her with the gift of a life as free and loving 
as that of her own dear girls, however much she saw 
the justice of some portion of Merle’s complaints, 
she saw other things too — for Mrs. Norton had 
lived. 

“ He is a kind father. Merle. Do you ever think 
of him.^ Sometimes when I hear him working round 
and waiting on himself, my heart bleeds for him. 
All these years since your mother died he has longed 
for a home. How bitter it must be for him to see 
that he will never have it.” 

‘‘ I wanted to board.” 

‘‘ Merle, dear, that is the trouble ; I ’m going to 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 51 


speak very plainly. You think too often of that 
horrid little pronoun, first person, singular. In 
other words, my dear, I fear that you are selfish. Did 
you ever think so ? ” 

“ If I have n’t, it ’s not for lack of being reminded. 
Della ’s sung that tune for seventeen years,” said 
Merle with a bitter curl of the lip. ‘‘ I should be a 
saint if having my faults held up to view would 
do it. I ’ve always felt that a little love would do 
more.” 

‘‘ Nevertheless,” said Mrs. Norton, nearly swept 
off her guard by her own most cherished precept, 
nevertheless, dear, let us look at it just now from 
your father’s standpoint. It is never safe to judge 
your life by making painful contrasts. You will 
underestimate your own comforts and pleasures every 
time. Compare yourself, rather, with some one worse 
off, instead of better, and then see how much you 
have to be thankful for. Your father is a very in- 
dulgent one; he works early and late for nothing but 
you girls, and in return he gets a cold, comfortless 
home, and a complaining daughter. He might have 
married and brought a little comfort into his own 
life ; though I doubt if a step-mother would have been 
agreeable to you girls. Perhaps he considered that. 
If you don’t have all the comfort and pretty things 
you would like, you could work for them, — many girls 


52 


MERLE AND MAY 

do, — yet you know your father would be scandalized 
at such a step. When it comes to money, you have 
much more small change than either of my girls. Do 
you often deny yourself an ice-cream soda, Merle ” 
“ Not often.” 

“ And don’t you generally take the car into Boston 
with Blanche, and get it at Huyler’s.^ ” 

“ Generally ; I have to have a little fun.” 

‘‘And if you took the money you spend carelessly 
for candy and needless car-fares, and those detestable 
lunches at recess ” (Mrs. Norton had once visited the 
school and recalled with a shudder the basement 
counter groaning with sandwiches innocent of any- 
thing but fat, doughnuts, rich and greasy cakes, 
limes and frosted eclairs, not even a glass of milk to 
redeem a long line of indigestibles) “ don’t you think 
it would amount to enough for you to provide your- 
self with wholesome dinners ? ” 

“ Perhaps.” 

“And now, my dear, if you should systematize your 
work, attend to your fires regularly instead of let- 
ting the stove get choked with ashes, wash your morn- 
ing dishes before you leave, and spread up the beds, 
I ’m sure it would n’t take long — then you ’d have 
the comfort of coming into a tidy house, and the 
leisure of the afternoon to yourself. Then would 
it be very hard to get a simple little supper, and to 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 53 


greet your father with a warm, tidy house and a 
cheerful presence? You feel that you are not loved, 
not needed, and you long for a home. Here ’s your 
chance. Home is not a place, dear, but a condition ; 
and it rests with you to make those few rooms bright 
and homelike. Would n’t it be a comfort to feel that 
you were indispensable to your father, his recom- 
pense for a disappointed life, and that the great- 
est pleasure and reward of his hard day’s work he 
found in his home and the devotion of his daughter? 
It ’s a great comfort and satisfaction. Merle, to feel 
that you are doing right. Duty is a very sweet 
word if you interpret it rightly ; and as you grow 
older you will find the need of this interpretation 
more and more. You have a great many good quali- 
ties, dear ; it would be a pity to grow cold and selfish 
and spoil them all. I was talking with Ganny the 
other day about you. Shall I tell you what she 
said ? — ‘ Merle is very beautiful, I love to look at her, 
yet there is something about her I don’t just like.’ ” 

Merle’s eyes filled and she looked away She 
wanted so much to be loved. 

‘‘And do you know how I answered? I said: ‘I 
Relieve if Merle had the right infiuence brought into 
her life, she would make a woman as beautiful in 
character as in face.’ If I try to be that influence, 
dear, will you try to make that woman ? ” 


54 


MERLE AND MAY 


Merle made no answer, but rose, saying as she held 
out her hands, “ Shall I lay him in the crib for you?” 

“ If you please.” 

Merle took the little limp form in her arms and 
laid it gently in the crib, — glad perhaps to hide her 
face as she bent over it. How different these last 
weeks of neglect looked to her now ! Her constant 
thought of self, of her food, her clothes, her comfort, 
her accomplishments — how selfish she was ! She lin- 
gered in the dim room, bending over the sleeping boy, 
while a new resolve, consecrated with a repentant tear 
or two, awoke in her heart- 

Good-night,” she said at last, turning towards 
the door. 

“ Come here, my dear.” 

Merle crossed the room and laid her hand in the 
offered one, while the other hand and arm went round 
her waist in a firm and tender clasp. 

“ Just one thing more, dear. Let me remind you 
that you have not only an earthly father to think 
of, but also a Heavenly Father who never misun- 
derstands, who never forgets, who is sorry when you 
are selfish and proud, who rejoices when you are 
gentle and helpful. And though you can’t do much 
that is really good for yourself, a little prayer to 
Him each day will bring you strength to accept 
cheerfully whatever He sends you, — study, work, 


CHIEF COOK AND BOTTLE WASHER 55 


play, pain, pleasure. Rightly used, they all go to 
the making of a fine character, — the thing best worth 
striving for. Will you remember this. Merle, dear? ” 

Merle did not speak, but she looked gravely down 
into the kindly eyes that were searching her face, 
and returned the warm pressure of the friendly 
hand. 

Mrs. Norton smiled; and black indeed would be the 
sheep that found no comfort or inspiration in that 
loving smile. Even a leopard’s spots would try to 
change under its blessed alchemy. 

‘‘ I knew I should see what I do see. Good night, 
dear child.” 


CHAPTER IV 
may’s maternity 

“ Did you ever see such a lucky day ! ” cried May. 

“ It certainly does look as if a kind providence 
had taken our star up into the ascendant.” 

“ Such a string of ‘ opportunes ’ ! If I were a 
pessimist I should say it could n’t last ; being an opti- 
mist, I shall make the most of it while it does. Op- 
portune number one, — a perfectly glorious day, a 
sort of summery oasis in a desert of winter. Num- 
ber two, — mother decides to go shopping with Grace, 
and to fit Roy to a pair of shoes — blessed be his lit- 
tle tootsey wootseys ! Number three, — just as we 
are planning an outing that should do justice to the 
day come these notes. Read me yours again,” 

“ Dear Merle, — 

“ Willard and I met on the highway, and being 

drunk with the elixir of this weather, planned there 

and then an outing which should preclude its being 

56 


MAY’S MATERNITY 


57 


misspent. Please be gracious and help us in our 
resolve by joining in a tramp up Blue Hill. 

“ I won’t take ‘ No ’ for an answer. 

“ Yours truly, 

‘‘ Bob.” 

“ Is that all he says.? You read it kind of hitchy 
as if you were skipping.” 

“ You ’re getting dreadfully wise, May, for one 
who poses as such an innocent.” 

“No special wisdom needed to know that when 
you and Bob have been on the coolest bowing terms 
for the last month, he would go properly down on 
his knees and smooth matters before invoking any 
favors. But you need n’t read it ; only do for good- 
ness’ sakes treat him decent when he ’s so kind and 
stands up for you, and has such a dull time at home. 
I heard something about you the other day.” 

“ It must be agreeable, else I should have heard it 
before now.” 

“ Some of the girls were talking, and they said 
you were too proud and distant.” 

“ Somebody blundered that that did n’t reach me 
before.” 

“ And Bob said he wished some of the girls would 

copy you. I heard something more ” 

“ You ’ll burst if you carry round such 
valuables ! ” 


58 


MERLE AND MAY 


‘‘ Bob said it was refreshing to meet a girl who 
had some gratitude, and was n’t always holding out 
her hands for favors.” 

‘‘ Did he really say that, May ? Oh ! I ’m so glad 
if he hasn’t misjudged me. I hate to be always 
misunderstood.” 

“ Then don’t be so cold. You know you could be 
the favorite wherever you put your classical nose, 
only just as soon as an acquaintance gets to be a 
little bit friendly, you freeze. I know of a dozen 
girls who are dying to go with you.” 

‘‘And don’t you know why I freeze. May?” 

“ Not unless it ’s because you ’re perfect in all 
else, and have to have this one blemish to keep you 
human. It would be dangerous for every one to see 
your true self and love you as I do ! ” said May with 
a significant lift of the brows. 

“ Don’t be a donkey. You know very well you 
make a dozen friends where I make one, and all the 
boys would willingly break their necks to serve you.” 

“ They treat me as a proxy. I have lost my 
identity. I pose as the friend of INIerle Elliot, as 
living in the house with Merle Elliot, as attending the 
same school with Merle Elliot, et cetera ; and one 
dav — don’t faint, dear ! — I was taken for the sister 
of Merle Elliot ! ” 

“ But seriously. May, don’t you know why I 


MAY'S MATERNITY 


59 


‘ freeze ’? When a friendship gets far enough for a 
girl to invite me to her home, to ask me to lunch, or 
to accept this or that favor, then I crawl into my 
shell and close the door. I can’t entertain the way 
you can. You have a handsome parlor, a smiling 
mother, a diplomatic sister, a kitchen to make 
messes in, and a dining-room to eat them in. 
Imagine my inviting one of the Shaw girls to lunch, 
as she did me once; and I was foolish enough to go; 
and now I have to avoid her, because I know she ’s 
looking for return favors, which is no more than 
natural. But how would she feel if I ushered her 
into my dining-room, alias kitchen, with a sink in 
one corner, and a table in the other ; or into my sit- 
ting-room that boasts of nothing but necessities.? I 
try not to envy, but I can’t swallow all my pride, and 
so I find myself more content not to associate with 
any girl intimately.” 

‘‘ I never think of what I have n’t,” said ]\Iay, in- 
nocently. “If I like a girl I just enjoy her; but 
now that you speak of it, I believe several who come 
here keep servants and live in style as we used to, 
but I never thought they ’d dislike me because we 
have to do our own work.” 

“Your position is different from mine. May; be- 
sides you can pose a little on your past. I ’m un- 
known, and have to make my own way with nothing 


CO 


MERLE AND MAY 


to make it with. You don’t realize how much is 
ready to your hand. I thought the other night 
when you coaxed me to go up to the church supper, 
how happy I should be in your place. Wherever you 
go you ’re known and loved for the sake of your 
father and mother. You ’re always welcome, and al- 
ways at home. No one has made a place for me, 
May; I have no mother and her circle of friends, no 
home, except such as I struggle to make myself. It 

is hard sometimes, for I ’d love to have friends ” 

“ And you deserve to have them, too, dear ! ” cried 
]\Iay in a spasm of remorse. “And you will some 
day, you ’ll have them all I ’m sure, — home, friends, 
wealth, and heaps of love ! I ’ll never talk about 
you ’re being cold again. But really. Merle, now 
that those exams, are off our hands, could n’t we brace 
up a little, just enough to invite the boys over — I 
mean downstairs.^ How’s the dancing.^” 

“ Fine. I should have gone up into the Hall this 
week if it had n’t been closed. Blanche has tauecht 
me during recesses, down in the basement where it ’s 
dark. It ’s very kind of her, eating her lunch down 
in that pokey old hole, but we ’ve ‘ divvied.’ She 
likes the whites of the eggs, and I like the yolks ; and 
then I ’ve made it square on those chocolate cocoanut 
cakes, of course; and she says I waltz fine, and will 
do very well on the schottish when I have music; 


MAY’S MATERNITY 


61 


and then, just as I bank on trying it up in the Hall, 
it ’s closed for a week ! Do hurry ! we ought not to 
be both half-dressed, if the bell should ring. Which 
had I better wear.? These new shoes pinch, and the 
old ones are shabby.” 

It would n’t take me long to decide,” said May, 
with a satisfied glance at her own broad “ under- 
standings.” “ You do look like such a peach. Merle, 
in that dress! Green just becomes you — and that 
black velvet yoke, with the pink bow in your hair! 
Oh, well, once I was taken for your sister I ” and May 
straightened up and marched stiffly across the room 
with her chin in the air. Coming back, she con- 
tinued : “ I never felt more like having a lark in my 
life, getting rid of those exams. — and by the way 
that reminds me of something disagreeable I heard. 

I sha’n’t mention any names, for I ’m really trying 
to please mother, and not gossip. We were in the 
main hall, dancing and eating our lunches between 
whiles. There was a little group of us by the statue 
at the door, when some of section “D” joined our. 
set. One of the girls — this is where I don’t mention 
names — said, ‘ I hear Miss Elliot handed in the best 
French paper, but I ’d rather have the worst than to 
have it known I ’d cribbed 1 ’ ” 

Merle turned aside and avoided the speaker’s eyes, 
saying, — ‘‘And did you fight my battle. May .? ” 


62 


MERLE AND MAY' 


“No, I did n’t have time. Miss Shaw flared right’ 
up and said, ‘ Excuse me, I don’t know you, and it ’s 
evident you don’t know Merle Elliot ; if you did 
you ’d never make such a remark ! ’ ” 

“ What else? ” queried Merle with her profile still 
to the speaker. 

“ Nothing else. That was the day Sir Tom sur- 
prised us, and knocked everything else out of our 
heads.” 

“ Do tell me how that happened. May ; I ’ve heard 
a dozen different versions.” 

“ Well, as I said, we were standing by one of the 
statues eating our lunches, and there were several 
such groups about the room, when in walked Sir 
Tom. I had some grape skins lying about the base 
of the statue, INliss Shaw had a couple of doughnuts, 
and Blanche had a banana skin and a cheese-rind 
tucked in a crevice. 

“‘Young ladies, attention!’ ordered Sir Tom. 

“ ]\Iiss Williams wheeled round at the piano, and 
all those dancing came to a standstill. 

“ ‘ This Hall was set apart,’ continued Tommy, 
‘ and decorated at some expense, for the purpose of 
bringing the beautiful, the festhetic into your lives. 
The yard was designed for your recess, but I have 
kindly allowed you the use of this Hall, that you 
might come into the refining influence of a daily con- 


MAY^S MATERNITY 


63 


tact with its works of art. This beautiful Carya- 
tide — an exact reproduction of those that graced the 
far famed Erechtheum, — which I supposed was thrill- 
ing you with the grace of its curves, with the beauty 
and sublimity of its pose, — I find soddened by the most 
perverted use ! I find a doughnut on the toe of this 
most beautiful Caryatide! a cheese rind under her 
heel ! grape skins in the f olds of her draperies ! and 
a yellow banana skin in close proximity ! Allow me 
briefly to recapitulate. This Hall was intended for 
the cultivation of the aesthetic; failing in this it 
might better close its doors than to subject its treas- 
ures to such rank defilement. Young ladies, the 
Hall will remain closed for one week! ’ ” 

‘‘ Oh May ! you ought to be an actress. I can see 
and hear Sir Tom in the flesh I ” 

Rare indeed is the teacher, however kindly and 
well-beloved, that escapes the indignity of a nickname 
from a fun-loving audience. And how the names 
stick from year to year is one of those inexplicable 
facts, as mysterious as the yearly rolling of marbles, 
the jumping of ropes, the spinning of tops, that 
spring from oblivion and fade back into it. In 
some instances the names are mischievously apropos, 
in others undeserved. In the case of “ Sir Tom,” 
as the master was known in the privacy of dressing- 
rooms and dim corridors, the name was not indicative. 


64 


MERLE AND MAY 


but was given in contradistinction to that o^ a mild, 
iindisciplinary, inefficient little teacher, popularly 
known as “ Tabby.” 

“ Heavens, May ! you ’re not going to wear that 
short skirt ? ” 

“Why not.^ it ’s a walking skirt, just right for a 
tramp.” 

“ Now, May, see here, you ’ve got to compromise. 
If you ’re going to wear those gun-boats, you ’ve got 
to wear a dress long enough to cover them.” 

“No one will see me; we’re going on the train, 
and then ” 

“ The boys will see you ; I should think that was 
enough. Put on your red dress, with a black rib- 
bon for your light hair, and your felt hat with the 
scarlet quill; that Avill be stylish and becoming.” 

“ I bow to martyrdom, but if the cows hook me in 

# 

the red dress, or I get pickled limes on the back and 
soda on the front, you ’ll face my tribunal for me, 
Avill you ? ” 

“And there ’s another thing. May. Don’t sniff 
every time you pass a fruit-stand, or talk about its 
being dusty whenever a drug store looms in sight. I 
want you to be a lady as well as good fun ; and you 
must realize that you ’re growing up, and put away 
childish things. I was simply horrified the other 
day to meet you eating peanuts ; if you ’d had any 


MAY'S MATERNITY 


65 


eyes you would have observed that Willard did 
not. Neither does he leap-frog over hydrants any 
more. He ’s in college now, and he knows — there ! 
what did I tell you ? and you ’re not half 
dressed ! ” 

“It’s early for the boys; who can it be? Go 
through the parlor, Merle, and peek out of the drap- 
eries. If it is the boys, close the hall door, so I can 
get into the bathroom.” 

Merle did as directed, observing from her “ coign 
of vantage ” that it was not the boys, and grudg- 
ingly opened the front door, barricading its entrance 
by her tall and dignified person. 

“ How do you do, Miss Elliot. Is Mrs. Norton 
at home? ” 

“No, Mrs. Haskell.” 

“Is Miss Norton?” 

“ No ; she is out.” 

“ O dear ! is May ? ” 

“ No ; that is, I ’ll see,” corrected Merle, at a loss 
how to shield May and be truthful in the same 
breath. “ Will you step in and be seated? ” 

Mrs. Haskell would step in, and did seat herself, 
for which compliance, agreeably to her invitation. 
Merle made divers facial contortions when safely 
screened in the hall gloom. 

Oh, Merle, what does she want ? ” cried May. 


5 


MERLE AND MAY 


66 

“ I have a presentiment — I feel sort of spikej all up 
my back. It can’t be to call.^ ” 

“ Rather an unseasonab'le hour, I should think.” 
“She didn’t have anything to return, did she.?’ 
She ’s always borrowing.” 

“ Not unless it was the baby in her arms.” 

“ Baby! has she the baby, Merle? I ’m doomed, I 
feel it — I knew this joy could n’t last I ” 

“ Don’t be tragic ; go in and see what she wants. 
You ’ve got a tongue in your head ; you can say 
you ’ve got an engagement, can’t you ? ” 

“ Could n’t I wear my hat and put on one glove, 
and then she ’ll see ” 

“ You might put your hat on ; and you can carry 
the gloves in your hand. Don’t seat yourself, act 
kind of restless, and be quick whatever you do, for 
the boys may be here any minute 1 ” 

May obeyed, at least in the dispatch of her busi- 
ness, for in short order the front door slammed, and 
Merle turned questioningly. But no May appeared. 
Wondering what could detain her now that the 
agony was over. Merle opened the parlor and 
peered in. 

May sat limply in a chair, her arms hanging de- 
jectedly, such utter “ dissolution ” in every member 
as would have charmed a gymnastic teacher. Her 
gloves had fallen to the floor, her hat was knocked 



SUCH AN EXPRESSION OF ABJECT MISERY 



MAY’S MATERNITY 


67 


rakishly to one side, and such an expression of ab- 
ject misery was on her face that Merle gasped at the 
sight. 

‘‘ May ! what is the matter ! INIay ! don’t f righten 
me like this ! What did she want ? Did she return 
anything? ” 

“ She gave me the chance to, with interest ! ” 

“ Did she borrow? ” 

Yes — me.” 

Don’t speak in riddles — what is it? ” 

For answer May raised one limp arm and pointed 
tragically to the sofa. Merle’s eyes followed the 
indicator, reached the sofa, and rested on a small 
bundle of lawn and lace. 

“May Norton! what do you mean? Have you 
spoilt all our fun and taken that infant to care for I ” 
“ I had to I ” 

“ When you had promised the boys — and we all 
banked on it ; how could you I ” 

“ Don’t scold, it ’s hard enough already,” said 
poor May with a frog in her throat. “ She took 
Roy off my hands the day all the folks were away 
and I was invited unexpectedly to the football game. 
Her nurse has lumbago, — more likely the embargo 
fever, — and she ’s been called away herself. She 
didn’t give me a chance to decline; she just took me 
for granted. I stood on one leg; I watched the 


68 


MERLE AND MAY 


clock; I looked out the window expectantly; but it 
did n’t work.” 

“Well, it ’s no use crying over spilled milk,” sighed 
Merle, making a praiseworthy effort to be generous. 
“ We ’ll have to make the best of it, that ’s all. Treat 
it as a joke, laugh it off with the boys, make 
some candy, and kill the afternoon as best we 
can.” 

“ Not much. I ’m surprised, after what you just 
said about our not being children any longer, that you 
would suggest such a thing. How would it sound, 
do you think, to have it said that two young college 
students, inviting their lady friends for a tramp, 
were beguiled into baby-tending! No thank you — 
I have sufficient distinction in that line already.” 

“What do you propose?” 

“ That I stay and you go, making my excuses as 
best you can. Say I ’m ill, gone to a funeral, or 
any other excuse, so that you let me out of it 
gracefully.” 

“ I can’t go alone, and you know it.” 

“ Invite Blanche, then. I ’ll have the chance to 
be generous in two directions,” said May with a 
wicked light in her eyes. “ Blanche has been dying 
to go with Willard for the last month, now here ’s 
her chance.” 

“ It’s a wretched mess all round, and the truth will 


MAY'S MATERNITY 


69 


leak out, and you ’ll regret not facing the music for 
once and all, — see if you don’t.” 

“ I ’ll face it then, but let me have my way now — 
for once — there ’s a dear — and here — here they are 
coming.” 

With all prospect of pleasure gone, and great mis- 
giving as to the wisdom of present plans. Merle 
caught up her hat, and found herself at the bottom 
of the front steps explaining to her male escort 
in voluble but vague terms the unexpected turn of 
affairs, while her pulse quickened and her cheeks 
burned with the knowledge that May’s owl-like eyes 
were watching her from behind the window 
draperies. 

Willard’s disgust and evident reluctance to wend 
in the direction of Blanche’s, and Bob’s pantomime of 
persuasion, were devoured by the aforesaid owl-like 
eyes, not without a wave of satisfaction. 

The group dwindling in perspective. May turned 
disconsolately toward the author of the afternoon’s 
dilemma. 

“ Since I ’m to be a nurse-maid, I might as well 
enact the part to the letter,” she observed, strug- 
gling out of the crimson cashmere that had been 
donned with such joy earlier in the day. As she 
stood before the mirror, brushing out the long braids 
despoiled of their ribbons, and now and then shaking 


70 


MERLE AND MAY 


her brush menacingly at the tiny person reflected in 
the mirror’s depths, the ruminating light that 
smouldered in her blue eyes suddenly leaped into 
flame, and a smile that would have done justice to 
the veriest imp companioned it. 

Twisting the light hair into a most becoming 
Psyche knot, and donning one of Grace’s long black 
skirts, May went on a foraging tour through her 
mother’s trinkets, and, the object of her search being 
found, completed her toilet by putting said object on 
the third finger of herlefthand. INIollified by the pros- 
pect of an adventure. May condescended to smile on 
the twenty pounds of pinky sweetness that lay en- 
meshed in a nest of lace, although the abstract joys 
of maternity had been rudely unveiled in May’s mind 
by two very practical years. 

Fortunately ]\Irs. Haskell had left the baby car- 
riage in the back yard, which gave furtherance to 
May’s plans ; and having pinned on a fierce-looking 
walking hat, she speedily appeared on the highway 
in her new disguise, pushing the crowing infant 
strapped into the carriage. 

“ It ’s too early for mother and Grace to get back, 
though they ’d drop dead if they were to see me ! ” 
said May with an inward chuckle and an outward 
skip ; “ and the boys and Merle have gone on that 
train.” But even in her abandon, she hesitated at 


MAY’S MATERNITY 


71 


the publicity of the highway, and wisely confined 
herself to quiet streets, emerging later at the back 
entrance of Franklin Park. 

It was warm, unseasonably warm, and, heated and 
tired by her rapid walk. May dropped into one of 
the seats, drew out her crocheting, and sat there — a 
veritable spider waiting for her fly — but apparently 
a most exemplary housewife, — her hands busied with 
her crocheting, and her foot quietly rocking the car- 
riage back and forth. 

Presently her prey appeared, rounding a boulder 
of pudding-stone, as the rough quartz which makes 
this locality so boldly picturesque is popularly 
known. A tall, stately personage it was, ca- 
parisoned in black. 

Poor May! how little you dreamed of the tangle 
she would make in your hastily spun web ! 

The figure advanced to the settee, wavered, and 
then, as if in answer to May’s unspoken invitation, 
dropped into its vacancy. Closing her tiny sun- 
shade, and wiping the perspiration from her brow, 
she remarked: 

‘‘ How unseasonably warm ! ” 

Most unseasonable I ” replied May in an au-* 

gust tone. 

“ I feel as if I were tempting providence, but I 
really must unloose this wrap.” 


72 


MERLE. AND MAY 


The first tempter of providence smiled a sweet 
concern, readjusting the carriage robe with a quick 
and practised hand. 

“What a love of a baby ! ” observed the newcomer, 
offering the edible end of her sunshade to the gur- 
gling infant. “ How old is she.^ ” 

“ She was bom the twenty-fifth,” said May with 
a reminiscent stare at the telegraph pole opposite, 
“ that will make her six months next week.” 

“ Sister.^ ” queried the lady, “ she favors you.” 

“ Sister! ” ejaculated May. 

“ Sister’s,” I said. 

“ Oh, no ; my sister is n’t married ; she ’s mine,” an- 
nounced the spider to the fly. 

“Yours! you can’t mean it,” with well-bred sur- 
prise. “ Why, pardon me, but really I took you for 
a young girl. It can’t be you ’re the mother of that 
great, bouncing baby ! ” 

“ True, nevertheless,” said May, gracefully twist- 
ing her thread round the finger of the hand that 
wore the wedding ring, and devoutly hoping that if 
this weather prevailed above, the recording angels 
were off on a tramp, too. 

“ My surprise really borders on rudeness. I beg 
you to pardon me, madam. After all, it is really 
refreshing to meet so young and charming a matron 
— it used to be the rule in my da}^” 


MAY^S MATERNITY 


73 


May lingered in her Garden of Eden, every bite at 
her forbidden fruit being a whet to her imaginative 
appetite, while Madam proved to be a most inspir- 
ing audience, drinking in with avidity every word of 
the first chapter of this pretty romance. 

Doubtless the chapter would have been consider- 
ably lengthened, for May’s ability in the imaginative 
line was equal to the credulity of her listener, but for 
the fact that Madam was suddenly shaken out of her 
absorption by the merest ripple of a surface chill, 
which ended in an abortive sneeze, sending its victim 
to her feet with the remark that she knew she was 
throwing herself in the very teeth of providence. 

]\Iay chuckled to herself as the deluded one rounded 
the pudding-stone boulder, and she spread her net 
afresh for another catch. But no second fly ap- 
peared, and becoming impatient. May rose in quest 
of new adventure. 

Afterward she was not able to tell definitely how 
it happened. The fact, and not the process, alone 
took shape. All she knew was that as she wheeled into 
the shadow of the boulder, a group suddenly blurred 
her vision, differentiated into four adults, and fi- 
nally individualized into Merle, Blanche, Bob, and 
Willard ! 

Congealed to the spot. May wished that she might 
be straightway wafted to the land of the antipodes. 


74 


MERLE AND MAY 


Nor was she alone in her discomfort. The angry 
blood leaped into IMerle’s cheeks, and her guilty eyes 
avoided her companions. Blanche, too, was upset 
by being met face to face under ' Willard’s es- 
cort by her late rival; while the boys, too well bred 
to question, were yet too stunned to try to ease 
a situation that was momentarily growing more 
painful. 

Of course all this occurred in far less time than 
it takes in the telling. It was a panorama of dyna- 
mic and kaleidoscopic changes, for just as the 
spikey chills were leaving ]\Iay’s vertebrae, and her 
quick brain had fashioned a plausible explanation, a 
stately figure, dressed in black, and carrying a car- 
riage parasol, emerged from the opposite side of 
the fatal boulder ! 

]\Iay’s eyes, round with terror, were divided in 
their fascinated glare between the oncoming figure 
and the group of four. She saw Madam readjust 
her glasses, and hasten on smiling. She saw her 
shake Bob’s hand and pat his shoulder, and she 
heard, even with her frozen senses, — “ My aunt, Mrs. 
Glines ; Miss Elliot, Miss Bolles.” 

That was all May heard or saw, for after the in- 
terchange of commonplaces which had followed the 
introductions, and happily eased the restraint. Merle 
turned, somewhat relieved, feeling that the advent 


MAY’S MATERNITY 


75 


of this newcomer in a measure covered up May’s 
disgrace, when — behold ! the path was clear ! 

Madam was “ so disappointed.” She too had seen 
the little woman as she was nearing the group. Such 
a young mother! really a mere girl! No.?^ Oh yes, 
— incredible as it seemed, — she had shared her seat 
but a moment before, and had herself seen the 
wedding ring. Such a devoted little creature, she 
would have liked much for the group to have seen 
her ! 

If a sudden light of intelligence leaped into the 
eyes of at least three of that group ; if the telegraph 
pole again became the butt of vacant stares, and if 
Merle showed a strong impulse to veer away from a 
thick clump of barberry bushes that studded the 
path in its bend, — it did not prevent Madam from 
expatiating on the charms of her settee acquaintance, 
and on the phenomenal youth of this devoted little 
mother. 

May was not forced to face an open tribunal, but 
if any doubt were left in her mind as to the effi- 
cacy of her barberry screen, it most certainly was 
dispelled before the following week was out. For 
the mail presented her with several dozen penny 
porcelain dolls, dressed as infants; twins, snugly 
strapped in a dime baby carriage; besides several 
rubber infants that squeaked most melodiously when 


76 


MERLE AXD MAY 


pressed. A broad, brass wedding ring also arrived in 
a jewel box, and last, but not least suggestive, was a 
large floral box in which reposed a minature bar- 
berry bush in full bloom. 


CHAPTER V 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 

Thanksgiving, with its attendant dissipation and 
dyspepsia, had given place to Christmas expectancy. 
Merle and May were engrossed in some mysterious 
enterprise, the alpha and omega of which was se- 
crecy. Poor little Roy nearly flew into convulsions 
in his effort to solve matters, and his tiny feet were 
often weary with carrying round his inquisitive little 
person. 

The sinks were filled with neglected dishes ; the 
school bags were unburdened of books ; peals of 
smothered laughter echoed from the rooms above; 
suggestive nods and winks were accompanied by 
mysterious spelling, which might have been in Eng- 
lish or Hosh Kosh so far as Roy was concerned; 
and large aprons, bulging into all sorts of sugges- 
tive shapes, threw his lordship into spasms of 
expectancy. 

Grace, too, was absorbed in the dreamy joy of 

her lover’s gift, while Mrs. Norton, serene in the 

77 


78 


MERLE AND MAY 


pleasure of her children, pored over receipt books, 
intending that this Christmas, the first they had 
passed with the beloved chair empty, should lack no 
joy her willing hands could compass. Then sud- 
denly into this happy midst a domestic bomb burst, 
and threw all thought of Christmas to the four 
winds. 

The winter had set in with unusual severity, prom- 
ising to be more than true to its New England 
tradition. Grace caught a miserable cold, which 
furnished an excuse for her cough for a time, as no 
eyes are half so blind as those that fear to see; but 
at length love tore off her bandage, and Mrs. Nor- 
ton’s heart stood still. Terrified lest the knowledge 
that she was failing should work disaster with Grace, 
fearful lest any pain should sadden the holidays, and 
yet begrudging every lost day toward some step of 
help, Mrs. Norton paced her quiet sitting-room when 
all were tucked safely in their beds, and prayed the 
dear God to direct her aright, and to spare her from 
smiling another beloved one into heaven. 

Then it chanced that the good old family doctor, 
who had opened Grace’s eyes and closed her father’s, 
chancing to meet the girl while calling at a friend’s, 
took a few, sly professional glances, made a quick 
exit, and drove straight to Mrs. Norton’s. 

“ Off to the South at once ! ” Such was the do- 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


79 


mestic bomb that burst in their midst and scattered 
all thought of Christmas to the four winds. 

Off to the South! With whom? To go with 
Grace meant double expense to Mrs. Norton ; to 
leave May and Roy was out of the question ; to take 
them equally so. To send Grace alone even would be 
a severe draft on the family income, for the thrifty 
business which Mr. Norton had left was making less 
and less return, now that it was run by another, 
though IMrs. Norton, with a mother’s generous love, 
had kept this new anxiety locked safely in her own 
breast. Grace was far too ill, too clinging and 
dependent in temperament, to make the trip alone, 
and no obliging relative offered her services. 

Into this inflammable state of affairs a second 
bomb burst, shaking the little house from attic to 
cellar, and stunning its inmates into such feverish 
excitement that none knew, till the event was over, 
whether it were a pleasure or a pain. 

It came about in this wise. Will, Grace’s be- 
trothed, was suddenly promoted to the road, and 
his agency for the winter was to be in the South — 
the very locality the doctor had suggested as most 
desirable for the invalid. Doubtless Will had a 
finger in this so opportune pie, for now he came, 
aglow with the good news, strong in his manhood, 
loyal to his love, to demand his little bride. 


80 


MERLE AND MAY 


Grace, ignorant of his good news, met liiin at tlie 
door, her pretty face tremulous between smiles and 
tears, and no lover’s greeting on her lips. She and 
her mother had had many serious talks of late, and 
she had been brave to agree that the only honorable 
and womanly act for her was to offer to free the 
dear one from an engagement that was likely to 
stretch along a straight and narrow road, with no 
welcome turning anywhere in sight. 

She had intended to be very brave and strong in 
the telling — quite a Lady Macbeth, — but when she 
opened the door and looked up into his face, radiant 
with its new light of joy, she faltered, trembled, and 
whispered such a heart-broken release that Will 
caught her to his breast with a masterful joy, more 
moved by this proof of her love than by all her 
smiles and pretty wiles. 

Mrs. Norton had known Will Shepardson ever 
since he had pranced about in kilts, and she loved 
him as one of her own. Besides, he had been ap- 
proved of the dear father, than which there was no 
more roval road to Mrs. Norton’s heart. Next to 
her mother’s, no arms could be more welcome in their 
opening to Grace, and Mrs. Norton felt that in the 
good doctor’s timely advice, and in Will’s manly 
and generous proposal, the silent prayers that she 
had breathed with every step in pacing her little 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


81 


sitting-room were answered. Certainly she felt no 
right to waste a moment of the busy days remaining 
in vain misgiving, or to feel anything but thankful- 
ness for this little ship of safety that had suddenly 
sailed into her troubled harbor. 

A wedding ! A wedding in ten days ! Such was 
the family bulletin that upset the daily routine and 
interrupted the girls in their secret enterprises. Merle 
deserted her flat and devoted every moment left from 
her studies to the prospective bride ; while May, the 
impetuous and thoughtless, straightened her round 
shoulders and suddenly became so much the woman 
that it brought tears of joy to the fond eyes never 
too dim with care to rejoice, and confirmed the dying 
father’s trust, “ May will live to be your comfort, 
dear.” 

Grace was the first little nestling, and was always 
frail, — two facts that made her very precious to the 
mother-heart. May felt this, always had felt it, but 
without the slightest shadow of regret or jealousy. 
She knew that during her father’s long illness and 
since his death Grace had been the staff upon which 
her mother leaned ; and she knew — no eyes were 
keener where love prompted their discernment — she 
knew that however sweet the smile on her mother’s 
lips, however bright the cheer of her voice, this sec- 
ond loss was to her the parting of the ways ; and the 


6 


82 


MERLE AND MAY 


longing to fill Grace’s place worthily, to be a neces- 
sity to her mother, suddenly grew into such firm re- 
solve, that those ten days of excitement and feverish 
haste, of joy in the bride and pain at the parting, did 
more for May than months of stormy discipline could 
have done. 

Fortunately a great deal had already been accom- 
plished, which, however, did not prevent there being 
a great deal more to do, for what bride could spread 
her wings for a nuptial flight without being ruffled, 
who had only ten days to preen her plumage in ! 

Such a hubbub and bustle as there was ! the sew- 
ing ! the cleaning ! the cooking ! the incessant door- 
bell ringing with its accompaniment of ill-timed calls ; 
the pessimistic predictions of some friends, the well- 
wishing of others. What excitement in the receipt 
of gifts, what shouts of delight or tears of quiet joy 
in the undoing, what plans and hopes and fears were 
crowded into those ten days ! 

May parboiled her fingers with washing dishes, 
stitched on the machine till she saw flying specks on 
the wall opposite, ran errands and pulled out bast- 
ings till her lithe figure ached with weariness, but 
never faltered. 

Merle loaned a helpful finger to whatever pie was 
in process of construction, gave many artistic touches 
and much valuable advice, and showed endless tact in 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


83 


spiriting the small Roy over troubled waters. In- 
deed, even his babyship, alive to the general atmos- 
phere of loving helpfulness, did his utmost to equal 
the occasion. He and Pickles flew together in an- 
swer to the postman’s ring, and fought literally to 
the teeth over the precious letters. Often a pack- 
age came, too large to pass through the door-slide; 
then it was that Roy stood high on his little tan shoes 
and clasped the door-knob hard with his two fat 
fists ; then it was that Pickles bided his time, snapped 
at the package, and bore it triumphantly down the 
hall, with his ears cocked and his disgraceful tail 
doing its best to add dignity. The sequel to this 
act always justified Pickles in his shrewdness, for 
Roy’s wails of regret at not being the privileged 
bearer of the gift invariably ended in the uncovering 
of a certain Dresden jar that stood on the left-hand 
corner of the sitting-room mantel. Gum-drops 
reposed in this Dresden jar to Pickles’ certain 
knowledge; so, mounting the hassock and directing 
a stony, unwinking, wholly innocent and imbecile 
stare at the left-hand corner of the sitting-room 
mantel. Pickles never failed to provoke the ex- 
pected, — namely, an explosion of laughter from the 
family, and the second lifting of the jar’s cover. 

Pickles had figured in the family history for a 
year, and was so important a member thereof that I 


84 


MERLE AND MAY 


may be excused for digressing. May had rescued 
him one memorable day when he lay stunned and 
bleeding from the cruel blows of his boy master. 
Red and white and blue with anger, May had sent 
the boy reeling into the gutter with a blow equalling 
his own in force and, catching up the cringing little 
sufferer, had fled home. Here behind the stove, in 
a snug basket filled with softest linen. May nursed 
her sufferer through a long convalescence. She 
bathed his bruised and swollen head, bound up his 
bleeding paws, and fed him daily on beef juice and 
cream, which she administered with her mother’s solid 
silver spoons. When, one day, he had so far re- 
covered as to tumble out of his basket, and sit, a 
trembling little heap, before the kitchen fire, it was 
considered an event for family rejoicing. It took 
many days for him to recover from his fright; an 
approaching A^oice or hand or foot shrank him up into 
a little quivering ball of supplication. That voices 
were meant for anything but curses, hands for any- 
thing but blows, feet for anything but kicks, was a 
discovery that took time. Many days were needed 
for his addled wuts to recover from cruel treatment, 
and when they did, it took all his dog philosophy to 
account for such a sudden transformation in his life. 
As he lay wdth his snub nose resting on his t\vo 
paws, and his blue eyes watching May’s every mo- 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


85 


tion with quick intelligence, a great love awoke in his 
heart for his little mistress, that nothing would ever 
weaken or still till his own little heart-beats were 
stilled forever. When he had sufficiently recovered 
so that he could drag himself about on four weakling 
legs. May was the scent his wrinkled nose sniffed. 
He guarded her at meals, silently, asking nothing 
but the joy of encamping on a fold of her dress, and 
during the agonies of dish-washing, he often sta- 
tioned himself between her beloved feet, nothing but 
the snip of a tail visible from under her long skirts. 
When she caught up her school bag he flew to the 
window to be in readiness for her passing “ good-by,” 
and howled dismally when she rounded the bend out 
of sight. Refusing all overtures from the remain- 
ing members of the family. Pickles hunted up some 
memento of his beloved, a slipper, a rubber, or a 
glove, and dragging it to his basket behind the stove, 
laid his loyal little heart upon it. 

If May had been asked what was the dearest thing 
she possessed, she would unhesitatingly have said, 
“ Pickles ” ; and if Pickles had been asked his con- 
ception of the difference between hell and heaven he 
would have said, “ My girl mistress.” 

But enough of Pickles, and back to the grand 
event. 

Mrs. Norton no longer pored over receipts for 


86 


MERLE AND MAY 


pies, puddings, and their near Christmas relatives. 
Something of far more importance, and much less easy 
of accomplishment, claimed her immediate attention. 

In England there is a certain famous college so 
desirable for youth of the upper ten that infants of 
the male persuasion are scarcely allowed to finish 
their first cry of regret at being thrust into the 
“ vale of tears ” before their names are entered on 
its lists. 

In like manner it might be said that Mrs. Norton, 
the most skilled and accomplished of housewives, no 
sooner found herself the mother of a little daughter, 
than she assumed as an indisputable corollary that 
in the near future a wedding would second this 
event. A wedding meant a wedding cake, and what 
occasion could prove so august for the exhibition of 
one’s culinary prowess? Thus for years Mrs. Nor- 
ton had trained herself in its mysteries, tested many 
samples, examined many receipts, till her own was 
so interpolated with after-thoughts, that any normal 
manuscript reader would have laid down his life — 
or more likely the manuscript — in despair. 

By rights it should have been made many weeks 
in advance, stored in the depth of some dark pantry, 
and there allowed to ripen its spicy richness. This 
enforced omission, more than all else, discounted its 
assured success. 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


87 


Nevertheless, Mrs. Norton took what time was left 
by the forelock, and appeared in her kitchen at six 
A.M. sharp on the morning following the bomb’s ex- 
plosion. Grace, May, Merle, Roy, and Pickles like- 
wise descended, Bridget W'as speedily installed, and the 
day’s w^ork began. 

Currants were washed and dried; raisins seeded 
and chopped ; citron peeled and shredded ; candied 
orange and fruits appeared from nobody knew where; 
almonds W’ere blanched and pistachios chopped ; 
molasses w’as strained ; eggs and butter were churned 
to a creamy whiteness, and every spice that grew 

on the far-famed shores of Araby was inspected, 
tasted, sneezed at, and pronounced upon. Moreover, 

Mrs. Norton, the most loyal of temperance workers, 
who heretofore had never allowed even the mildest 
of vinegar ciders to disgrace her mince-meat, openly, 
and in the full glare of the sunny dining-room bay, 
tested various vintages and pronounced on their 
merits with the air of a connoisseur. 

Roy held high carnival in his comparative free- 
dom from watchful eyes, purloined whole pocketfuls 
of citron and candied fruits, and tremblingly braved 
the gloom of the rat-and-goblin haunted pantry in 
the eating thereof. 

When at last rows of heavy pans (augmented by 
obliging neighbors) were all carefully lined with 


88 


MERLE AND MAY 


buttered paper, and the oven, after much manipula- 
tion of dampers and the insertion of many hand-tests, 
was pronounced “ just fit,” then the toothsome in- 
gredients were blended in one rich, distracting whole, 
and in the good old Southern fashion every member 
of the household was called on to give her stir of 
“ good wishes.” 

Bridget beat long and vigorously, and if her good 
wishes were commensurate with the endurance of her 
strong arm, then the little bride was rich indeed. 
Mrs. Norton was not to be outdone by any scion of the 
kitchen, and her well-trained wrist sent the raisins and 
citron and candied fruits flying scientifically through 
the batter. The rest struggled more or less success- 
fully with its heavy richness ; even Roy wrestled with 
its ladle; finally. Pickles sniffed at its fragrance with 
his cold nose, but being a wise dog went no farther. 

All night Mrs. Norton sat at her post while the 
baking was in progress, with hardly a nod or a cat- 
nap to break her vigil. Hours of “ slow heat ” it 
needed, and hours of slow heat ” it had. Not until 
all the stars had hidden their heads, and the winter 
sun was just peering over the Whites’ house, did 
Mrs. Norton take one last satisfied look at the long 
line of perfect loaves, with not a refractory raisin, 
nor burn, nor blemish, and toil up the back stairs to 
her well-earned rest. 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


89 


Mrs. Jones lingered on the outskirts during this 
ten da}"s’ upheaval, reveling in the plenteous larder 
and in the excitement which left her its mistress. 
She deluded no one as to the helpfulness of her pres- 
ence save herself and the tender-hearted Mrs. Norton. 
As for May, Mrs. Jones more than all else came near 
pulling her down from her throne of high resolve. 
As it was. May could not withstand the impulse to 
outwit her now and then ; as when, coming upon 
a pile of goodies secreted for the home-taking, she 
stuffed the raisins with pepper, smeared the citron 
with soap, encouraged Pickles in the chewing 
of her rubbers and bonnet strings, and came very 
near offering him the bonnet itself, but wisely desisted 
for fear of preventing the unwelcome one from her 
nightly leave-taking. 

Alas! there was no feverish waiting for the wed- 
ding day. It came all too soon, cold and cloudy, 
with a leaden sky portentous of snow. May flat- 
tened her freckled nose many times on the window 
pane peering out in search of a speck of blue, but 
even her hopes were dashed when a few pretty little 
white stars flecked the window glass, and melted out 
of sight. 

The wedding was to be at noon, — a quiet affair, as 
befitted so sudden a flight, and with the family still in 
mourning. 


90 


MERLE AND MAY 


Grace had been brave and sweet and womanly 
through it all, keeping her girlish fears and disap- 
pointments locked closely in her own heart. But how 
different it was from her pretty plans and day 
dreams ! 

She had always thought she would be a bride in 
June, when the air was sweet with blossoms, and with 
the song of birds nesting like herself. She had 
never looked upon her marriage as a rupture, for 
there was the new room, the outcome of sucli happy 
plans, which left her home life what it had been, with 
mother and May and Roy. Now she was to leave 
them, and the thought that she was ill and might 
never see the dear ones again made many moments 
bitter that should have been sweet. 

On the morning of the eventful day Mrs. Norton 
bestirred herself early, in order that this breakfast — 
perhaps the last meal they would eat together — should 
equal the occasion. Never liad the coffee, usually in- 
dulged in on Sundays only, been so rich and pungent, 
the cream more liberal, the fritters of such golden 
brown, the syrup of such amber clearness. Never had 
the prospective bride looked so womanly sweet and 
winning, never had Mrs. Norton been more smiling, 
never had May appeared so early in the morning in 
such immaculate costume, yet something was clearly 
wrong. The coffee would not “sell’’; the fritters 


THE ERST FLIGHT 


91 


swam almost untasted in their syrup ; conversation 
languished, till May, feeling that longer silence 
would be fatal, observed, as she wiped her eyes, that 
were clearly overcome by the heat of the coffee, — 
“ Do — do you feel any different, Grace? ’’ 

“ I should n’t if I was n’t going to leave — if I 
could feel sure — that is if we ” — but the tremulous 
lips got no further. 

“ It won’t seem long, dear ; Easter will soon be 
here, and then you ’ll come home all well, and we ’ll 
have a great time scurrying round and fitting up the 
new room.” 

“ Yes,” assented the little bride, though all three 
whispered in their hearts — “ If ! ” 

Roy paused in his sweet revel, and his bright eyes 
saw Grace’s trembling lips, his mother’s retreat be- 
hind the coffee urn, and May’s moist eyes. Some- 
thing was clearly wrong. Into his two years so 
much svmshine had been crowded, that the slightest 
rift in the domestic sky affected his loving little 
heart like a discord to the music-loving. His lips 
trembled too, his eyes filled, and he lifted up his 
voice and wept. 

Perhaps it was the best thing that could have hap- 
pened, for all followed his example, and the over- 
charged hearts found relief as Mrs. Norton with 

O 

arms outspread gathered her cliildren to her. Sad 


92 


MERLE AND MAY 


moments they were, though beautiful in a way, for 
such love of home and family makes life worth the 
living. 

Roy was the first to smile, for he suddenly pointed 
a little treacled finger to the window, crying, — 
‘‘ May’s chrissy ! May’s chrissy ! ” 

May smiled through her tears too, for sure 
enough, through days of neglect and cloudy weather, 
her fragile little alyssum had bloomed. Its honeyed 
sweetness lay nestled in a cup of green, like flakes 
of starry snow that, drifting down, were conscious 
of their beauty and had idled in the melting. 

“It teaches me a lesson,” said Mrs. Norton, wip- 
ing dry her eyes, and falling to on her neglected 
breakfast. “ See how beautifully it has fulfilled its 
mission, rounded out its little life in beauty. Let us 
take up our burdens, girls, and see what blossoms will 
reward the carrying. I will try to be father and 
mother in one, and to keep the home cheerful and 
prosperous for you, dear children.” 

“ I will try to get well and not despond, and be 
a happy, helpful little wife, so that Will can say 
what papa once said to you, that he loved you more 
dearly every year.” 

“ I — I won’t grumble about the dishes, and I ’m 
going to take better care of the window flowers papa 
loved so well ” (her father’s memory was very dear to 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


93 


May) ; “ and I ’ll try to fill Grace’s place, but I 
can’t — I can’t — I know I can’t ! ” 

May hid her head on her mother’s breast, and a 
second storm threatened the sky, when an opportune 
knock sounded at the dining-room door. Merle opened 
it, and stepped shyly in — she had been careful not to 
intrude on the family during this last meal. 

“ The bell rang, but I thought you did n’t hear, 
so I went. It was Bob, and he brought these.” 
Merle held out a bunch of hothouse flowers that she 
had hidden behind her, and continued, while her eyes 
avoided iMay’s, Bob said he thought you would ac- 
cept them from your sister’s friend, with his well 
wishes.” 

‘‘Sister’s friend to fiddlesticks!” muttered May. 
“ A dozen bunches of hothouse flowers to his wash- 
woman would be cheap in his eyes, if you opened the 
door to take them in. I ’m getting where I detest 
weddings ; I know all the signs, and I can see another 
before I ’ve a chance to recover from this.” 

“ It was very kind of Bob, and they will help dec- 
orate, but of course I can’t wear any but Will’s,” 
said Grace, caressing the expensive beauties. 

“ He never left those alone, own up. Merle ! ” urged 
May, with the grin of a Cheshire cat, “ Forget-me- 
nots ? or Heartsease, dearest ? ” 

“ Roses,” admitted IMerle with a pretty, conscious 


91 . 


MERLE AND MAY 


color. “ He is so generous to his friends, and of- 
fers so much I can’t take, that I thought it would n’t 
be wrong this once.” 

It was n’t wrong, dear,” said Mrs. Norton with 
a frown at May and a smile at Merle. “ It would 
have been very rude to refuse such a kindness. The 
more I see of him, the better I like the lad.” 

“ A most estimable husband in embryo ! ” observed 
May, sagely. 

If he carries out his promise, I should say, — ‘ A 
most estimable husband for some one,’ ” observed Mrs. 
Norton. “ He is studious at college, and respectful 
to his father’s wishes. I hope, when he does choose, 
he ’ll get some sweet, unselfish girl who can bring a 
great deal of love and home comfort into his life — 
he needs it, if all you hear is true.” 

“ I ’ll put these in water and arrange them,” said 
Merle, glad of a pretext to escape. She caught the 
loose flowers into her arms, but before she could 
free one hand. May sprang to her feet, opened the 
door with a profound salaam, and made this appar- 
ently imbecile remark ; “ I wonder why owls are all 
eyes, and bats have none ? ” 

By noon the commotion was over, the bride dressed, 
the relatives assembled, and the minister in waiting. 
A very simple affair it was, for no flare of music, no 
glitter of lights, no over-dressed escort, announced 


THE FIRST FLIGHT 


95 


the entrance of this fair bride, or marred the solemn 
beauty of her marriage. 

She stood in the little bay window, as pure and 
frail as the softly falling snow without. Mrs. Nor- 
ton stood near, the quiet tears dropping unchecked in 
memory of the dear place empty at her side. May 
held her mother’s arm, looking unusually tall in her 
long white skirt, with a serious light in her blue 
eyes that gave a sweet and womanly expression to her 
face. 

Merle had taken pains to secrete herself in an out- 
of-the-way place, but was obliged to leave it in the 
care of Roy. She, too, made a picture well worth 
the painting, as she stood gracefully in her simple 
white lawn, with not a jewel or ribbon, nothing but 
an exquisite bunch of cardinal roses caught into her 
belt, upon which Roy leaned his little golden head. 
He needed all the assurance of her beautiful eyes, 
and all the living comfort of her warm hand, to 
pilot him through the ceremony. For the minister’s 
low voice, his mother’s tears, and May’s one audible 
swallow, filled his baby heart with evil misgivings. 

The snow fell noiselessly without; the minister’s 
voice rose and fell; and Grace’s womanly sweet re- 
sponse, and Will’s manly one, tied the knot that made 
them one forever. 

Will placed the little circle of gold upon her fin- 


96 


MERLE AND MAY 


ger, the minister closed the Bible and outspread his 
hands in benediction. Just as his “Amen ’’ floated 
softly through the room, and Will turned to kiss his 
little wife, the wind sent the clouds scurrying 
through the sky, and a bright glint of sunshine fell 
upon the group in the bay, making a pretty picture, 
full of hope, a solace to the dear ones left behind 
who dreaded the vacancy in the home-nest from this 
“ first flight.’^ 


CHAPTER VI 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 

Shall you remember Bob at Christmas ? ” 

The speaker’s eyes remained on her work, — the 
fashioning of a diminutive red hood, — which she 
held off critically, only dividing her glance with a 
flaxen-haired doll which reposed in a scandalously 
nude state before her. Other dolls’ clothes lay about, 
from tiny, half-finished garments of lawn and lace, 
distracting little dresses of blue and pink, bronze 
shoes with ravishing gold buttons, sun-bonnets, per- 
fect even to the puckers in the back, down to the 
red-riding-hood cloak that May was fashioning, cap- 
tivating enough to induce any number of wolves to 
quit their hiding-place. 

Although only a few days remained before Christ- 
mas, the girls had decided to accomplish what they 
could of the enterprise that had been so suddenly in- 
terrupted by Grace’s marriage. 

On the night in question Mrs. Norton had gone to 

call upon one of the neighbors, which left the girls 

97 


98 


MERLE AND MAY 


mistress of the cozy sitting-room, with its cheerful 
open grate, and the big centre table laden with their 
litter of work, over which the shaded lamp shed its 
soft light. 

The workers were in earnest, which accounted for 
the scarcity of conversation, although IMay had 
made several desperate attempts to lead the talk up 
to a certain point, offering the most inviting of baits, 
at which her companion had never once so much as 
nibbled. 

Several things had occurred of late that had 
opened May’s eyes, and what she did n’t actually see 
her fertile brain more than supplied. She wished 
that Merle would be confidential and talk; but Merle 
had an effective way of creeping into her shell when 
any one came too near ; which, perhaps, after all, ac- 
counted for her worshipful following and the sta- 
bility of her throne. 

At length Ma^’-, worn out with her discretion, sud- 
denly gave way to her natural impetuosity and 
launched her question into the conversational 
vacuum : 

‘‘Shall you remember Bob at Christmas.?” 

“ I don’t know. I ’ve balanced pros and cons un- 
til I ’m tired, and I think I ’ll end the matter by 
asking your mother.” 

May yawned, and stretched out her long limbs to 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


99 


the crackling fire. Obviously the question was not 
vital, and its answer still less so. Inwardly she sup- 
pressed her joy at her diplomatic move, and glanced 
quizically at the lamb-like mood of her prey, whom 
she had expected to anger into a porcupine with 
every quill on the defensive. 

“ Of course I always remember Willard ; but then, 
that’s different. We’ve grown up together, you see. 
Still, Bob ’s a neighbor, and I know mother feels 
indebted to him, for there ’s the flowers for the wed- 
ding, and then he saved Roy from falling into the 
sewer that day they opened up the street. If it 
had only been a pretty river instead of the sewer, and 
you instead of Roy, it would sound more like the 
right stuff for a book; but it ze^as a sew, and a ter- 
ribly smelly one at that, so it will have to make up in 
fact what it lacks in fiction,” said May, unable to 
suppress a smile of satisfaction at her phrasing. 

“ I should be glad to remember him with some 
simple thing,” said Merle. “ He knows, I think, 
that I have n’t much money ; and we both owe him 
for some good times, — I for the first I ever had, — 
but you see it would be so dreadfully mortifying if 
he did n’t remember me.” 

‘‘ There is n’t any danger of that. Willard says 
he has done no end of quizzing at the gymnasium, 
and that ’s what set me thinking.” 


100 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I like Christmas best when we just give, and 
don’t exchange. I hate all this balancing and sur- 
mising; it kills the true spirit.” 

“ I think anything Bob gives will be with the 

true spirit. He has n’t many friends ” 

“ Thanks to his father.” 

“ And those he has he is especially fond of — some 
in particular. Did it ever occur to you.^” 

“Did what occur 

“ That Bob is very fond of — of some people.!^” 

“ He ’d be different from everybody else if he 
was n’t.” 

“ Do you include yourself in that.^ Are you par- 
ticularly fond of any one.? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Would it be asking too much for the name of this 
honored creature.?” 

“ You, dear.” 

The little red-riding cloak dropped to the floor. 
Fortunate it was that its doll possessor lay in safety 
on the table, or she too would have dropped, as May 
embraced the speaker in a burst of gratitude. It 
was very unusual for Merle to unbend, more unusual 
still for her to express any warmth of feeling. 

“ I won’t plague you any more. You ’re the dear- 
est kind of a turtle, or you ’d have snapped long 
ago. As it is, you ’ve hoisted me with my own 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


101 


petard (isn’t that the right way to use that?) but 
it ’s had such a sweet ending — Goodness ! there ’s the 
bell — it can’t be mother ; she has her key. Probably 
it’s — Mrs. Jones.” 

Merle rose, gave a hasty glance in the mirror, set- 
tled the blue bows in her glossy waves of hair, and 
then, as male voices were heard in parley, swept sun- 
dry unnamable garments under a paper, tossed a 
pillow over the dolls, and sat industriously bending 
over her work, apparently absorbed to the exclusion 
of all else, as the door opened and two tall lads ap- 
peared on the threshold. 

“ Good evening. Industrious ! We came to see if 
we could n’t entice you girls out on the double-run- 
ner. The moon is full, and the hill is perfect; but 
just as I put the question,” said Willard, ‘‘ May has 
the indiscretion to sneeze and cough, which leaves a 
fellow to infer she has a cold.” 

“ She has a cold, and I don’t believe it would be 
prudent to go out ; besides, although it may not 
sound cordial, we ’re rushed to death,” said Merle 
with a wave toward the littered table. “ But stay 
and toast, if you like.” 

“ A moon and coasting without, a crackling fire 
and two— ahem — girls within. What ’s your choice. 
Bob?” 

Bob wriggled out of his ulster for answer, and 


102 


MERLE AND MA Y 


Merle pushed the lounging chair in front of the 
grate, fluffed up its cushons, and held out her hands 
for his coat and hat. 

This gracious act of welcome warmed the cockles 
of Bob’s heart, used as he was to the indifference of 
the maids at home. He had no mother to spoil him, 
no one to do the pretty nothings that cost only the 
heart’s love. Sensitive and affectionate, he would 
have responded warmly to the influence of such a 
home, and the love of father and mother ; but 
this he had never had, and since his father’s mar- 
riage in particular, he was often made to feel 
unwelcome. 

The home atmosphere of the cozy little sitting-room 
appealed to Bob as it had to Merle, while the arm- 
chair freshened for his comfort, the tall girl with 
hands outstretched and a smile of welcome, confirmed 
Bob in a conclusion he w’as fast forming. He ex- 
ulted in his heavy ulster that made it possible to 
touch these outstretched hands in the transfer, and 
perhaps he showed something of his pleasure as he 
looked down at the little helper before him. Some- 
thing it w'as that sent IMerle hastily into the hall, 
something, too, that evidently IMay had seen, and 
which accounted perhaps for her shaking her fist at 
a black derby and a gray ulster, after which she 
peered out of the hall window, and inconsistently 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


103 


hoped that her mother would find her call agreeable 
and lengthen her stay. 

Of course you ’re dying to know what we ’re do- 
ing, so I ’ll save your asking. Merle ” 

“ Don’t be personal.” 

‘‘ Merle thought it would be nice to do something 
generous outside of friends, to remember some 
charity that ’s well organized and no chance of hum- 
bug you know, and so we decided on the Children’s 
Hospital. We ’re going to make up a box and take 
it there ourselves Christmas morning, so as to see the 
children’s fun. We are dressing dolls ; Blanche and 
the girls have promised us various things ; and then 
all these pictures that we have cut out, are pasted 
into books made of different colored cartridge pa- 
per. They ’re really artistic.” 

Go on with your sewing, and let us paste.” 

“ Just the thing,” laughed Merle. “ Make your- 
selves useful and help us out in our rush.” 

The fire crackled and sputtered as if vying with 
the merry flow of talk and laughter, as the girls 
donned thimbles and threaded needles, and the boys 
flourished shears and paste brushes. 

“We wanted to add books and some paper-doll 
furniture, — Merle saw such a love of a set, — but 
funds gave out, and we had to content ourselves with 
this.” 


104 . 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Might I ask if males arc debarred from con- 
tributing to this noble enterprise? ” questioned Bob. 

“We might let them contribute, as their Christmas 
gift to us ! ” announced May, seeing a possible solu- 
tion to a difficult problem. 

“ Would n’t that be a scheme for all four — just to 
contribute to the box instead of remembering one 
another ! ” hastily seconded Merle. 

“ There ’s mine,” said Bob, laying a crisp bill in 
the centre of the table. “ Is it a go? ” His query 
was general, but his eyes questioned Merle. 

“ As your Christmas gift to us — yes.” 

“ It ’s a hard condition and takes away what 
would have been a great pleasure,” pleaded Bob. 

“ Nevertheless the condition prevails, and any self- 
sacrifice that it entails adds greatly to its value ! ” 
came the fiat from headquarters, as ]\Ierle smilingly 
added her contribution. The pool being complete, 
the four crossed hands over it as a pledge to their 
compact. 

“ One condition more,” urged Bob, holding the 
hand that rested lightly in his, “ one concession more, 
please. Let us go with you Christmas morning to 
carry the box and share your pleasure in the giving.” 

“ Resolved,” said May in a sonorous voice, “ re- 
solved, that the four members now joining hands 
shall convey in toto the Christmas box to the Child- 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


105 


ren’s Hospital, December twenty-fifth, early in the 
morning. Those in favor please say ‘ aye ’ — those 
opposed ? It is a vote ! ” 

May took her seat amidst a storm of applause, and 
>vork was resumed. 

That night, after the door had closed on the call- 
ers and Merle had gone up to her room, she stood 
for a moment by the darkened window', smiling at 
the remembered pleasure of her evening, and in- 
cidentally listening to Bob’s retreating footsteps. 
Presently the heavy front door slammed, and in a 
moment a light glimmered in his room, — then the 
shades were drawm. Merle followed suit, lighted the 
gas, and, leaning her elbows on the little blue bureau, 
studied herself earnestly in its glass The result was 
evidently satisfactory, for she smiled, and leaning 
forward, kissed the pretty lips reflected therein. 
Then her face clouded. 

“ I always have to discount my pleasures. I hate to 
hurt him,” she mused, “ and I know it ’s only natural 
and decent for me to invite him to call up here. 
Even May, familiar as she is with Willard, never 
forgets that courtesy, but I can’t — I can’t! I’d 
rather never see him again than endure seeing him 
try not to see how plain my poor little sitting-room 
is. He ’s kind and generous, but a blue-blood every 
inch, and I can’t and I won’t endure his pity. What 


106 


MERLE AND MAY 


he thinks I don’t know, — and don’t care; I shall 
always have to be misjudged, and one time more or 
less does n’t matter.” 

jNIerle wiped her eyes, a need seemingly inconsistent 
with the tenor of her musing, turned out her light, 
and throwing up the window stood looking out, prob- 
ably at the moon which was full. Strange! but an- 
other moon worshipper was leaning out of the op- 
window ; and Merle, whose eyes should have been on 
the heavens, and not on casements, gave quite a 
Juliettesque start as this near-by Romeo came to 
view. 

“ Good-night,” called the apparition. 

“ Good-night,” — in a faint echo. 

“ Don’t stand there and take cold ” ; with which 
very unpoetical, but eminently practical, advice 
Romeo closed his casement. 

Christmas morning, bright and early, a party of 
four were seen plodding along through the deep 
snow. Two were young girls, tall, rosy cheeked, and 
certainly pretty, else why did passers-by forget their 
manners, and turn to look again? Two tall, college- 
stamped young men followed in the girls’ footsteps, 
carrying a large box which the day sufficiently ex- 
plained. The four halted before a brick building, 
climbed a flight of stairs, and disappeared behind a 
swinging door. 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


107 


In a twinlding they were in parley with a trim 
little nurse; her cap and kerchief, cuffs and apron, as 
dazzling as the snow without. jNlerle made a digni- 
fied little speech of presentation, wondering at the 
number of frogs that had suddenly leaped into her 
throat, while Bob and Willard duly lifted the box 
into evidence. 

Nurse knit her brows, hesitated a moment, and 
then laid a kind hand on each of the girls. 

“ My dears, it was so sweet in you to take all this 
trouble that it is very hard for me to say what I ’m 
going to. Perhaps it would seem kinder not to do 
it; but I always feel that in the end truth is best. 
You see, though your gift is so early, the fact is 
that the children already have more, much more, 
than they can possibly use. We have already stored 
some of the gifts in the attic. Of course, if you 
feel dreadfully disappointed, you can leave it, but 
if you know of any other children you ’d better give 
it to them.” 

The girls stood petrified — all their work refused.^ — 
why it was like a slap in the face in return for a 
caress ! All the eager light died out of their eyes, 
and the blood burned in Merle’s cheeks. Willard, 
feeling the situation a little warm, lounged over to 
the window, but Bob stood his ground firmly, and 
was the first to recover. 


108 


MERLE AND MAY 


The girls’ disappointment he resented, and the 
nurse whom he had at first thought charming was sud- 
denly metamorphosed into a being as stiff and cold 
as her linen. 

‘‘ We certainly can find some one else that will ap- 
preciate it, girls. Good-morning.” And shoulder- 
ing the box, the four passed out too stunned for 
apology. 

“ Serves me right,” said Merle in the corridor. 
“ I thought it would be nice to do something big — 
you always hear of fine ladies going round with fat 
parcels to this and that charity — it seemed more 
than to do quietly for some obscure person.” 

“ Excuse me — I did n’t see you, the hall is so 
dim, — but could I trouble you to tell me what car 
will take me to the General Hospital.? ” 

The speaker was a little woman, worn and pale, 
with big anxious eyes, and thin nervous hands that 
folded and unfolded the shawl about her. She was 
evidently distressed, which accounted for her colliding 
with May far more than the dimness of the hall. 

“ The General Hospital is on the other side of 
the city. I think a cross-town car would take her, — 
would n’t it ? ” said Bob. , 

“ You see I was so upset,” said the woman, “ I 
did n’t rightly hear what the man said, and I have 
come to the wrong hospital.” 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


109 


It ’s too bad if your time is precious. Have you 
any one ill?” questioned May, kindly. 

“ My husband. He expected to be late last night ; 
he ’s teamster, and the work ’s heavy in holiday time ; 
but he did n’t come and he did n’t come, and I walked 
the floor, I was that worried. This morning a man 
came and he said my husband was prostrated with the 
late work and the cold, and for me to come at once 
to the hospital.” 

Oh, I ’m so sorry ! what can we do ? ” asked 
^lerle, eagerly. 

“ I spent all my change getting here ; if you would 
be so kind as to lend me enough to get to the right 
hospital, I ’ll give you my wedding ring — though I 
never had it off before; and I’d like enough to get 
back home, for the children — poor dears, it will be 
a sad Christmas for them.” 

“ We don’t want any security,” said Bob, kindly, 
diving into his pockets ; “ but we ’ll take your name 
and address.” 

“ Why ! ” exclaimed May, as the address was given, 
“ you live quite near us — have you children — how 
many — what kind ? ” 

‘‘ Four little girls, miss ; thank you, sir, and this 
car, you say, will take me? Thank you, thank you 
all ; good-morning.” 

“ Number 17, Flint Street; that’s our destination. 


no 


MERLE AND MAY 


lads and lassies,” said Merle. “ She ’s true blue, that 
woman. She never said, ‘ God bless ou,’ once ; and 
we may yet thank that dreadful nurse for refusing 
our gift.” 

‘‘I’ve rung twice, and this is certainly No. 17,” 
said May, scanning the windows of a tenement house. 
Suddenly the top of a disheveled head appeared over 
the window sill, followed by two frightened black 
eyes. “Who’s there ” said a small voice. 

“ It ’s some young ladies, dear, who know your 
mamma. It ’s all right, come and open the door.” 

The four stumbled up into a dark, stuffy hall, 
heavy with the combined odors of living and cook- 
ing, and into a small room to which the owner of the 
black hair and eyes led them. She might have been 
ten, this head of the family, — a pretty, delicate little 
girl, who mothered the three small children as they 
clung to her skirts, and eyed the strangers. 

Merle covered her aristocratic nose from the over- 
powering odors, but her proud eyes winced at the 
poor, struggling makeshifts everywhere visible. Her 
glance wandered from the bare floor to the four 
shivering little girls, swept across the empty break- 
fast table and cold stove, and paused at four little 
black stockings that hung limp l^ehind its funnel. 
Then they filled, — those proud gray eyes. 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


111 


“ Santa Claus did n’t come,” piped one little 
voice, in response to May’s overtures. 

“ And daddy said he ’d come, sure, because the 
strike is over.” 

“ But he did n’t,” added the third, pointing to the 
unmistakably empty stockings. 

“We met him on the way, dear; and he gave us 
this to bring ; the snow was so heavy last night he 
could n’t get here with his reindeer,” said Merle with 
a smile, pointing to the box. 

Four pairs of dark, awed eyes lighted up; four 
little mouths were compressed and breathless, as Bob 
set down the mysterious box, and wrenched off its 
cover. 

May folded back the paper, and there lay Red 
Riding Hood in her scarlet cloak, Matilda Jane in 
her white sunbonnet, Susan Marie in a cloud of blue, 
and Annabella May in a mist of pink. 

Four pairs of little arms were folded on four little 
breasts; four little legs were drawn up, leaving their 
owners but one to stand on, and four ecstatic “ Ohs 1” 
left these little pelicans breathless. 

Four happier little girls it would have been hard 
to find when the bottom of the box was gained, and 
its contents distributed ; and four happier young peo- 
ple it would have been harder to find than Merle and 
May, Bob and Willard, as they watched the pretty 
scene before them. 


112 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ It ’s so fortunate we decided not to spend that 
money, but meant to ask nurse what to do with it. 
Now we can get them some breakfast and make them 
comfortable until their mother comes,” said Merle, 
after going on a foraging tour, and finding the 
pantry bare and the wood and coal box empty. 

“ Would n’t it be nice to buy them a Christmas 
turkey ! ” whispered May, to whom the role of Lady 
Bountiful came naturally from her dear mother’s 
example. 

“ I have n’t the slightest idea what a turkey costs, 
but I know these children need some breakfast and a 
warm room. Skip home. May, — it is n’t far, — and 
let your mother do the deciding, then come back as 
soon as you can.” 

May and her escort accordingly departed, leaving 
Merle and Bob to set things to rights. 

Merle’s sympathies were at once enlisted, because 
though poor, everything was neat.^ The floor was 
as clean as brush and water could make it, also the 
table with its covering of enamel cloth ; the stove 
was blacked and the ashes emptied ; and even the 
little girls, though untidy from their mother’s sud- 
den call from home, had clean aprons lying ready 
on the chairs. 

Merle armed herself with a basin of water and a 
hair-brush, and proceeded to put the four through 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


113 


a vigorous scrubbing. Bob chopped up the box into 
kindlings, and laid the fire ready for the coal. His 
work ended, he leaned against the mantel and 
watched operations. Just at present Merle ap- 
peared at her best, and Bob found himself wondering 
if every girl could adapt herself so easily to what- 
ever situation she was called as Merle. Whether she 
were walking a board fence, presiding in a parlor, 
taking a tramp, sewing doll’s clothes, or tending 
dirty children, she was always Merle, with just 

i 

enough dignity to redeem the situation, and not 
enough to make her a prude. 

Whatever else Merle lacked of good qualities, her 
love of children was unmistakable. With them she 
was demonstrative, yielding, tactful, and affection- 
ate ; and little cliildren clung to her as instinctively 
as a bee to clover. 

Bob watched her ministrations, which brought the 
dirty little faces out pink and sweet, freed 
the frousled heads from their tangles, and encased 
the wriggling little bodies — all arms it seemed to him 
— in the spandy clean aprons. 

“ I have a new name for you,” he said smiling, as 
the last pair of black legs wended to the coveted cor- 
ner of toys, — “ I shall call you ‘ The Madonna of 
the Wash Tub ’ ! ” 

“ Do your Madonnas clean hair - brushes ? ” 


8 


114 


MERLE AND MAY 


laughed Merle, glancing up from her very practical 
work. Then, sobering suddenly, — “ What makes 
you stay any longer and spoil your day.^ I can 
finish now; go home and enjoy yourself.” 

“ Do I deserve that ? ” 

“ Oh dear, I did n’t mean it that way. How could 
I imply that you had n’t helped with your whole 
heart, when you ’ve been the prime mover all the 
morning.^” said Merle with true regret. Hadn’t 
it been Bob who alone had had the wit to make a 
dignified exit at the Hospital.^ hadn’t his hand been 
the first to go into his pocket.^ and was n’t it his arm 
that helped the poor woman through the deep gut- 
ter, and lifted her in her shabby, old-fashioned shawl 
on to the car she needed ? And had n’t Merle con- 
trasted Bob with a certain other gentleman present, 
somewhat to the other’s disparagement.^ 

“ I did n’t mean to imply that you were not sin- 
cere,” continued Merle, apologetically ; ‘‘ I only 
meant that all this suffering and want does n’t shock 
me as it must you.” 

“ It does n’t shock me at all, except to shake me 
out of my selfishness, and to make me ashamed that 
such suffering exists only just across the way.” 

They say when one is drowning, a panorama of 
one’s evil acts passes in review. Do you know, as I 
stepped into this bare, cold room, with those four 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


115 


frightened little children, I had some such feeling. 
My own complaints and pride seemed wicked. Mrs. 
Norton says it ’s never wise to contrast yourself with 
those above you in wealth, but to look at those who 
have less, and be thankful for your blessings. She ’s 
right,” added Merle. 

“ Wealth does n’t bring everything,” returned 

Bob. 

‘‘No, I suppose not, but most of us are willing 
to take what it does bring. Don’t philosophize, you 
old Croesus; go home and enjoy yourself, as I said, 
and stop looking morose.” 

“ I feel morose.” 

“ I don’t believe you have any right to, but if 
you have, and if it would be a relief to speak — though 
I have the name of being cold ” 

“ The Captain and Mrs. White left last night for 
the South. It does n’t matter- — only I had the 
chance to spend the holidays agreeably with friends, 
and I gave up the pleasure because it seemed only 
decent to be at home.” Bob’s voice grew strained, 
and he ahemed and coughed with a man’s distaste 
for emotion. 

“ Then I am sorry,” said Merle with ready sym- 
pathy, “ and I ’ll take back what I said.” 

“I’m a kid when it comes to being lorded over 
and taken to task, but if I show any feeling, any 


116 


MERLE AND MAY 


sensibility, then I ’m a man. If I do right, I get 
no thanks; if I do the least wrong, I hear from it — 
never doubt. What ’s the use of a fellow being de- 
cent when nobody cares.? ” 

Oh, somebody does care, I ’m sure. Bob Your 
father, though he may not show it, and your friends. 
Mrs. Norton speaks so highly of you, and May and 
I care, if that is any satisfaction.” 

“ How much do you care. Merle.? ” 

“ Oh, it is n’t measurable ; I just do care. Bob. I ’m 
sorry for any one who is n’t happy at home, and 
though I don’t often make personal confidences, per- 
haps you know the same is true of me. I used to 
feel it thankless work doing my duty, and I do yet 
some days; but dear Mrs. Norton has helped me so 
much that I ’m really getting (I know it sounds 
prosy) so that at times there is a kind of satisfac- 
tion in doing right, just for right’s sake. It ’s up- 
hill work, I admit, and I have many backslidings ; 
but with such a helpful influence as Mrs. Norton’s ” 
— Merle stopped, surprised at her own confidence; 
but Bob, keenly alive to the intimacy of the mo- 
ment, and more surprised than Merle herself at this 
sudden unbending, wisely kept his surprise and 
pleasure to himself, and said after an introspective 
pause, “ Every one needs an influence for good in 
his life, especially a young man ; it is n’t all easy 


A CHFTSTMAS BOX 


117 


sailing to be decent ; 1 think I ’ll take you for my 
mentor, Merle.” 

“No mentor, only a friend, helpful if she may be, 
but human and failing. Bob. You ’d better take 
something more stable,” said Merle, suddenly con- 
scious of her woman’s power. 

“ I ’ll take you just as you are, you willing,” said 
Bob ; “ and you might give me a talisman to wear 
like the old Scottish chiefs. I ’ve been admiring 
those pinks in your dress all the morning.” 

“ What color will you have ? ” laughed Merle, in- 
dulgently ; “ red, white, and one cream with red 
splashes.” 

“ You choose, please.” 

“ Then I ’ll give you the striped one. It shall sig- 
nify the double regard your young neighbors hold 
you in.” 

Bob offered his coat lapel, but Merle hesitated; 
then, remembering that the day was full of disap- 
pointment for him, with an empty house and the 
prospect of a lonely dinner, she relented and, smiling, 
reached up and pinned the little talisman in place. 

Perhaps it was just as well that Merle kept her 
eyes on her work, though her color deepened; but 
Bob, suddenly bewitched out of his discretion, covered 
the slim little hand and the pink with his own, and 
said in a voice that would grow fervent in spite of 


118 


MERLE AND MAY 


him, “ You know that the cream color, the whole 
foundation of the pink, represents you, but I ’ll 
please you and let the little red splashes be May.” 

“Who’s taking my name in vain? Talk of an 
angel, and you hear the flapping of his wings ; and 
there ’s another version yet, which I hope is n’t 
mine,” announced jMay, bursting into the kitchen 
with an armful of bundles, while Willard brought up 
the rear dragging Roy’s new express cart. 

“ Here, first and foremost, is this,” continued May, 
throwing a cord round Merle’s neck, on w'hich a 
suggestive pendant hung. “ Mamma says you must 
smell of it often, because the whooping cough is 
round, and you never can tell in these houses ” (sink- 
ing her voice) “ what germs are in the air. Turkey 
is too high ; mother said coal was more essential, and 
after that staples. She put in a couple of mince- 
pies and some tea, and said she ’d make deficiencies 
up later, but could n’t leave now on account of the 
turkey, Bridget being so unreliable. She said we 
could fix up nice, and then leave the mother to enjoy 
the surprise alone,” after which voluble directions. 
May took a precautionary sniff at her camphor bag 
and subsided. 

In a twinkling provisions were packed away, a fire 
was started, and Merle had administered bread and 
milk to the four hungry pelicans. 


A CHRISTMAS BOX 


119 


Bob meanwhile was directing the arrival of the 
coal, Merle inspecting a round of beef with a house- 
wifely air, while May pirouetted round the kitchen, 
balancing a mince-pie in each hand as Willard peeled 
onions under her directions, wept real tears, and 
afforded her ladyship endless fun. 

The room warm, the stew simmering, the four 
little girls snug and happy, the four angels in over- 
coats closed the door and sped for home. 

“ There is only one thing wrong with this day,” 
said May, running and sliding in the snow like a girl 
of ten. “ Mother is terribly exercised because there 
are thirteen of us to sit down to dinner. I should 
ask you. Bob, to help us out as a favor ; and it seems 
appropriate, too, for us four to be together, only 
I ’m afraid it would seem flat to you with all 
your 

‘‘ Say ‘ yes ’ ; do, please,” whispered Merle. 

“ Don’t dangle that bait in my face again, unless 
you plan on making a catch ! ” laughed Bob ; and 
May, greatly surprised, nevertheless had the cour- 
tesy to repeat her invitation, though she did not 
know why Bob was able to leave his home and dine 
out on this day of days. 

That night, as Merle lay thinking in her little 
blue bed, watching the twinkling stars through her 
window, and marvelling at the day’s pleasures, she 


120 


MERLE AND MAY 


rehearsed a few important points and checked them 
off on her fingers. 

“ First I wrote a kind letter to Della, and told her 
I was sorry she could n’t come home for the holidays; 
second, I tried to think of somebody besides myself 
when I planned the Christmas box, though I needed 
the money for gloves and collars; and third — third, 
I helped Bob out of a wretched day.” The last was 
evidently not an onerous task, for tlie dreamer smiled, 
winked at a star, and disappeared under the bed- 
clothes ; where she murmured a few fervent thanks 
to her Heavenly Father before she went to sleep. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 

“Where is Merle this afternoon?” 

“ Upstairs working, I suppose — will it matter if 
I darn Roy’s stockings with black ? there is n’t any 
more tan.” 

May sat beside her mother in the sitting-room 
bay, the basket of Saturday’s mending between them. 
She had not forgotten her resolve to try to fill the 
dear sister’s place, and the disposition of the Christ- 
mas box had been followed by many praiseworthy, 
if sometimes abortive, attempts at helpfulness. 

This afternoon, in particular, she took a pardon- 
able pride in her Spartan self-sacrifice, for the skat- 
ing was fine, several of the boys had called and begged 
for her company, and the recollection of her firm re- 
fusal glorified the sewing-on of buttons and the darn- 
ing of hose. Yet, like most martyrs. May hoped her 
ordeal was known to men, and certainly had no weak 
inclinings to hide her light under a bushel. She had 
been expecting some word of praise, some evidence 
on the maternal side of her usefulness, when her 


I2I 


122 


MERLE AND MAY 


mother ’s question sent her train of thought in an en- 
tirely different and unpleasant direction. 

“ It occurs to me,” continued Mrs. Norton, the 
deciding of black or tan in no way interrupting the 
sequence of her thought, ‘‘ now that I think of 
it, I have n’t seen Merle, to speak to, for several 
days. Is the work dragging, or are those wretched 
examinations looming up again ” 

“ Something to do with an exam., I believe,” said 
May, with more truth in her remark than was meant 
to be evident. 

“ It can ’t be that you girls have had any mis- 
understanding.^ you think too much of each other 
to allow anything to come between you.” 

“ Hark ! Roy is calling,” said the diplomatic one, 
showing unusual sisterly concern. 

Mrs. Norton rose, not without some glimmer of 
light however, for though May usually succeeded 
in covering her machinations by the most adroit 
maneuvres, Mrs. Norton now suddenly smelled a rat, 
and not only smelled him, but heard him nibble, 
though she quietly laid down her mending and left 
the room without further words. 

Roy was undergoing the Saturday afternoon or- 
deal of bathing, an experience violently antagonistic 
to his lordship ’s inclinings. It took all the ma- 
ternal diplomacy, augmented by an entire fleet of 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


123 


sailing vessels and a box of magnetic fishes, to 
assuage his fears, and to induce this small scion of 
the House of Norton to sit and soak, a corollary that 
Mrs. Norton felt necessary to the fulfilment of the 
golden rule. 

Having once got the scent of the afore-mentioned 
rat and heard his nibbling, Mrs. Norton quietly set 
to work to locate him definitely. All through the 
week she heard him nibble, though she set no trap. 
She heard him nibble when Merle set off alone to 
school, and May idly lingered till a safe distance in- 
tervened; she heard him nibble when Merle remained 
all the evening upstairs, and May as studiously re- 
mained down ; she heard him nibble and almost saw 
his tail when the two, having made a fatal estimate as 
to each other ’s whereabouts, met suddenly and un- 
comfortably in the hall. 

Having thus defined his whereabouts, Mrs. Norton 
baited her trap with her most skilfully toasted 
cheese, and awaited her catch. It came unexpectedly, 
one night when May posted off alone to some 
sociable, and Merle, tired and heart-sick of her long 
seclusion, braved the chance of being cornered and 
rapped gently on Mrs. Norton’s sitting-room door. 

“Who is it.?” 

“ Merle.” 

“ Come in, dear ; you ’re such a stranger ” (first 


124 


MERLE AND MAY 


whiff of cheese) “ and I ’m so lonely with Grace gone, 
and May ’s off to-night too.” 

Merle raised her eyebrows in polite surprise, and 
dropped listlessly into her favorite chair. She 
looked pale and tired, and the pretty eyes had a 
hungry look that went straight to Mrs. Norton’s 
heart. She longed to take her in her arms and let 
her cry out her pride, and make everything all smooth 
and happy again, for Merle really had but little com- 
fort in her life and could ill afford to lose that little. 

“ If my scamp of a May has been playing didoes, 
she shall get down on her knees and eat humble pie 
till Merle is satisfied,” mused Mrs. Norton, as she 
buttoned up Roy’s “ nightie,” and folded his little 
hands on her knees in prayer. 

“Now I lay me down to sleep ” — 

“ Now I lay me down to tleep ” — 

“ I pray the Lord my soul to keep ” — 

“ I pray de Lord me toul to teep ” — 

“ If I should die before I wake ” — 

“ If I should die — but I don’t want to die and be 
all toldy, toldy, all frozed in my little trib ! ” wailed 
Roy, the gloomy possibilities of his nightly invoca- 
tion becoming suddenly and painfully defined. 

Quite nonplussed by this unexpected and doleful 
interpretation of a prayer that had been lisped un- 
complainingly through her entire nursery, and by 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


125 


Roy heretofore, Mrs. Norton was, nevertheless, 
obliged to take his babyship on an immediate ride to 
Banbury Cross, which, failing to produce desired re- 
sults, was followed by the recitation of ‘‘ The Frog 
Who Would a Wooing Go,” the gobbling act being 
done in her very best style. 

Not, however, till the cracker- jar had contributed 
a diversion to this sad state of affairs, and Pickles 
had obligingly winded himself in a frolic, was Roy 
prevailed on “ to lay him down ” in his little 
“ trib,” and forget his possible dissolution. 

Mrs. Norton dropped into her chair at last, quite 
worn out with this unexpected ordeal, and said as she 
picked up the inevitable darning, “ You look tired 
to-night; does the work drag again, Merle.? ” 

“ It drags when my heart is n’t in it.” 

And have you lost heart again, dear.? ” 

“ When things go wrong at school I lose heart in 
everything. Life is a good deal of a grind anyway; 
the more you try, the more knocks you get.” 

‘‘ I hate to hear you speak like that. I thought 
after our last talk you did wonderfully well, and I 
began to feel quite proud of my girl. But for some 
days I have n’t seen much of her, and lately it has 
occurred to me that you and May are avoiding each 
other.” 

Having opened her trap with a snap, Mrs. Norton 


126 


MERLE AND MAY 


looked up, expecting to see the rat run in, but Merle 
only twisted uncomfortably in her chair and looked 
away. 

“ Would n’t it be any comfort to speak and have 
it all cleared up. Merle? ” 

“ Tattling ’s at the root of the whole matter now ; 
you surely don’t wish me to add to it? ” 

“ I certainly don’t wish you and May to con- 
tinue going on this way, avoiding each other as if 
you were leprous. Evidently there is need of a go- 
between. Can’t I fill that office as well as another? ” 
“ It will pass over, I suppose ; and by that time 
several of us will be wiser.” 

‘‘ Who was unwise to start with. Merle ? ” 

“ The school authorities, I think. If there had n’t 
been any examination, there would n’t have been any 
trouble.” 

‘‘ I remember IMay said something about examina- 
tions, but I thought she meant study.” 

“ What else did she say ? ” 

“ Nothing.” 

I wish she had been as close all through, then 
it would have been easier for me.” 

“ Tell me about it. Merle ; now I insist. If you 
don’t, I certainly shall compel May to tell me. It 
is n’t tattling when you explain things for help; it ’s 
when you tell private news maliciously.” 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


127 


“ I ’ve done remarkably well in French so far, con- 
sidering how I fell behind last year, — all because I 
loved Miss Silvia, and she took such pains with me. 
I was getting where I pretty nearly led the class, 
and when the notice of this last exam, was given 
out, I just ground to see if I could n’t excel. Miss 
Silvia said the best paper handed in would be honor- 
ably mentioned, and I naturally wanted the distinc- 
tion,” said Merle, feeling somehow that if this were 
“ tattling ” it was a very relieving process. 

Well, dear, I see no harm so far, except this 
everlasting striving to beat. I think if none of 
you knew where the other stood it would save lots 
of nerves and ill feeling.” 

“ Miss Silvia said that the day before the exam, 
we could leave our French grammars home, for noth- 
ing would be allowed on the desk save a clean blotter 
and a block of paper.” 

“ Perfectly insulting remark, and if a girl were at 
all inclined to cheat, I ’m sure it would spur her on ! ” 
said Mrs. Norton with a savage thrust of her needle. 

“ I think you don’t know what it is to handle so 
many girls, Mrs. Norton; for in order to be fair to 
the honest ones, the cheats have to be watched. Any- 
way, I put in hard work the night before ; and 
when the printed test was given out next day, I 
•felt pretty sure of myself. But as I read down the 


128 


MERLE AND MAY 


paper I came to a list of irregular verbs that made 
me gasp. I knew if I failed, they would be my 
Waterloo. However, I went ahead, leaving them 
for the last, so as not to get flurried for lack of 
time. By degrees they came to me till I felt pretty 
sure of all but one. I looked round the room, and I 
could tell that man j of the girls were puzzled too, 
and ‘ misery loves company ’ you know. Then, as 
my lagging verb began to come to me and I was 
scribbling it on my pad to make sure that it looked 
right, my eyes fell on my neighbor. Miss Edwards, — 
Oh, how I hate her ! — what do you think she was 
doing? ” 

“ Can’t imagine. Merle ; things have changed so 
since I went to school.” 

“ She was copying something from her linen cuff 
which she had pulled down from under her sleeve! ” 

‘‘ Exactly the fruit I should expect such a system 
to bear ! ” 

I ’ve seen girls cheat in lots of different ways, 
but that was new, and my eyes blazed. Miss Ed- 
wards felt cheap, I suppose, and thought I needed 
to be mollified, and so she wrote something on a pa- 
per and passed it over. I opened it — why, I don ’t 
know. I simply did, — and there was the very verb 
that puzzled me conjugated! It verified what I had 
already written out on my block of paper. I copied 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


129 


that on the examination paper, signed my name, and 
passed it up at the desk. That was the end of the 
affair until a few days after. Then Miss Silvia made 
out the report, and said it gave her great pleasure 
to name Miss Elliot’s as the best paper, because, she 
said, it showed what a girl could do by patient and 
honest effort, and a lot of nice things like that, and 
I felt translated to the seventh heaven.” 

“ Well, dear, I ’m sure you deserved it.” 

‘‘ I did n’t enjoy my high seat very long, though. 
The congratulations had scarcely died on the girls’ 
lips, before there was a rumor round that Miss 
Elliot had cheated. I could n’t believe my ears ! 
Every one knew it, even May. Of course it came 
from the note that Miss Edwards had passed, and 
I had opened. No one saw its contents but us, so I 
naturally thought that she had told. I offered no 
explanations. I thought those that did n’t know 
me well enough to trust me could think what they 
chose.” 

‘‘ I don’t blame you much, dear.” 

“ After a few days Miss Silvia assembled the 
sections and said : ‘ I am very sorry, young ladies, 
that from circumstances which I can ’t explain it 
will be necessary to recall the French paper which 
was given out as best last Friday, and to substitute 
the next best, which is Miss Edwards’.’ ” 


ISO 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Oh Merle, dear, not without questioning you pri- 
vately, and letting you state your side of the affair?” 
‘‘Just so: that’s what I meant when I said ‘the 
harder you try the more knocks you get.’ At re- 
cess I found that the note, which Miss Edwards had 
passed to me, and which I had thrown into my desk, 
was gone! I knew then of course that Miss Silvia 
had somehow heard that I had had help, and the 
wretched verb that I scribbled in at the last was in 
a hurried handwriting, showing that it had been a 
last thought. The note which was taken out of my 
desk seemed to verify the whole thing. Of course I 
had been dishonest and accepted help! Nobody 
knows what I went through after that, with Miss 
Edwards being courted and smiled on, and every one 
whispering and turning to look after me.” 

“ It was very trying to such a sensitive girl as 
you, I ’m sure, and you have my whole sympathy 
dear,” said Mrs. Norton, wiping her sympathetic 
tears on Roy’s little sock, as Merle hunted aimlessly 
about for her handkerchief. 

“Finally, I just got where I couldn’t endure it, 
and I told May. She flared up and was going to 
blurt out the whole affair, but I made her promise 
not to complicate matters for me by having it known 
that I had n’t backbone enough not to tattle, — and 
that ’s all the good it did.” 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


131 


‘‘ Did she tell? ” 

“ She must ; nobody else knew ; and it made me 
no end of trouble. Miss Edwards soon came down 
from her high perch, and life became a problem, I 
can tell you. To think that she had originally 
cheated, passed the verb unasked to me, used my 
acceptance againsc me, and had sat still while I was 
publicly disgraced and she honored, filled the girls’ 
crops just full! After a few days of it she left. 
Perhaps you think that I was petted and made up 
to for what I had suffered? Well, I wasn’t. Girls 
don’t go down on their knees so easily. They hated 
Miss Edwards for her cheating, but they hated me 
just as much for tattling. I heard several remarks 
about a ‘ chocolate eclair backbone ’ (it ’s an ex- 
pression some politician used and the girls have 
taken it up), and I assure you I feel as if my back- 
bone was a chocolate eclair, and my legs jujube paste, 
and my head a sponge, — I have been hounded so 
long,” sighed poor Merle. 

“ Tell me where May comes in.” 

I ’ve told you. She should have kept her prom- 
ise and not repeated. That made things all the more 
bitter. Miss Edwards’ parents must have written 
about the matter, I think; anyway. Miss Silvia said 
she was ashamed of a class that would make it so 
uncomfortable that a scholar was obliged to remain 


132 


MERLE AND MAY 


at home, and if any of us wanted to know what 
boycott meant, Ave need n’t consult a dictionary. 
Then, what cut most of all,” continued Merle, “ was 
Miss Silvia. She called me to her one recess, and 
said she could n’t express how disappointed she was 
in me. A girl who had held such a high place in the 
class had a great deal of influence, and could set 
everything awry by such an occurrence as the pres- 
ent one. Miss Edw^ards w'as to return the next 
day, and she hoped I would recognize her kindly, 
and let the matter drop. But I could n’t recognize 
her when she had done me such an injustice. She 
was the one to unbend, not I, so last night Miss 
Silvia returned my album to me, and had written in 
it this.” Merle drew a little book from her pocket, 
opened to a prettily decorated page, and handed it 
to her listener. Mrs. Norton read, — 

Is she kind as she is f air 

For beauty lives with kindness. 

Love doth to her eyes repair 
To help him of his blindness, 

And being helped, inhabits there.” 


IMerle hid her head on the chair-back, and gave 
full vent to a flood of tears. She loved to excel ; and 
if she had earned praise honestly, it was bitter to 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


133 


suffer disgrace in her classmates’ eyes, and to lose 
the love of the teacher she had worked so faithfully 
to please. 

Mrs. Norton’s usually kind eyes flashed with in- 
dignation, and she longed to speak her mind to 
]\Iiss Silvia on examinations in general and this one 
in particular, and to shake each and every culprit 
included in the affair. 

“ I am sorry May complicated matters, though 
unintentionally,” she said at last, “ and I can see 
you were placed where explanation, unless called 
for, was hard for you to give. Did you confront 
May with it? ” 

“ I told her she had broken confidence, and had 
made a nice muddle for me.” 

“ What did she say ? ” 

“ She denied it.” 

Are you sure you did not judge her harshly? ” 

“ I don ’t think so.” 

“ And you told no one else? ” 

‘‘No one in school.” 

“ Any one outside? ” 

“ Only Bob. He walked down with me one mom- 
ing, just when matters were at the worst. But 
don’t think he told ; it takes a girl to do tliat.” 

“ What did he say? ” 

“ ‘ Rats ! ’ ” 


134 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ ‘ Rats ! ’ That is what ” 

The rattle of May’s key in the lock cut short Mrs. 
Norton’s remark and started Merle to her feet; but 
Mrs. Norton held out a detaining hand saying, “ No; 
sit still ! you two shall meet right here, and have one 
side of this miserable matter cleared up.” 

May bounded in with a hop and a skip, her face 
rosy and smiling, and looked very unlike one carry- 
ing a burdened conscience. She tossed off her things, 
and began telling about some merry prank, all un- 
conscious of Merle hidden in the big lounging chair. 
Suddenly, however, that fact became patent to her, 
and May’s merry manner froze into such stiff dig- 
nity, and her freckled nose assumed such an acute 
angle, that Mrs. Norton smothered a smile beliind 
Roy’s apron. 

“ Merle has just been telling me about this 
wretched affair, that you have avoided telling. I 
made up my mind that one of you had got to ex- 
plain. How came it. May, that you broke 
confidence.^ ” 

“ I broke no confidence, mother.” 

Mrs. Norton looked her steadily in the eyes for a 
moment, and then turned to Merle. 

“ My girls never deceive me,” she said quietly. “ I 
always expect them to be truthful, and when in the 
wrong they know they have my help. I never 


THE CONJUGATION OF A VERB 


135 


frighten them into deceit, so Merle, dear, you must 
be wrong.” 

“ Probably I am,” said Merle, heroically taking 
her first bite of humble pie. ‘‘ I Ve been so muddled 
and wretched over the affair, I suspect I don’t see 
half straight. If I ’ve done you an injustice, May, 
I — I ask your pardon first.” 

“ You have done me an injustice, for you never 
gave me a chance to explain ; if you had, I could have 
told you that Bob had a finger in your pie.” 

‘‘ Bob ! ” 

‘‘ Yes, Bob. You told him the whole affair, and 
he says you did n’t caution him not to speak of it.” 
‘‘ Did n’t caution him ! — but his common- 
sense ” 

“ Common-sense does n’t count when a friend’s 
honor is being dragged in the gutter. He did just 
what I should have done, if you had n’t bound me. 
Blanche strung out the whole affair to him , — her 
version, — and he set her straight, that ’s all.” 

“ Oh May ! I ’m so sorry ! It ’s been so hard to 
lose you too, hardest of all, I think,” said Merle, 
swallowing the rest of her humble pie at one heroic 
gulp. But the confessor had a generous priestess 
to appeal to, for May shook off her dignity and was 
at her goddess’s feet in an instant. 

“ Don’t — don’t ! I was most to blame, after all, 


136 


MERLE AND MAY 


for not explaining on the spot; but my honor, you 
know, is my one precious point, and it wounded me 
to think you did n’t believe in me.” 

“ But I believe in you more than ever, you pre- 
cious baggage,” said Merle, smoothing back the 
tumbled hair and wiping the tell-tale eyes with 
her own moist handkerchief. “ But don ’t let me 
off too easily. May. Is there any little penance 
you’d like me to pay for my wrong-doing.^” 

Yes ; don’t be hard on Bob, and get all stiff and 
distant again. It ’s made trouble enough already, 
without tangling up your best friends.” 

“I agree — anything else.^ You’d better strike 
while the iron ’s hot, young lady ” 

“ Nothing else, thanks. It ’s enough for me that 
we ’re together again, though our peacemaker de- 
serves some token of our regard.” 

May turned to her mother, but the chair was 
empty. 

“ She ’s slipped out, dear soul, that we might 
have the privacy of our confessions. Let ’s find her, 
and show her her gocxl work,” said Merle. 


CHAPTER VIII 


ALL ’s WELL THAT ENDS WELL 

Bob dutifully confessed his thoughtless disclosure, 
and humbly begged forgiveness. Merle granted it, 
tired and sick of these needless misunderstandings 
with the dearest of her friends. There the matter 
apparently rested, but to the proud and sensitive girl 
it was far from settled. She had lost the love and 
interest of her teacher, the respect of many class- 
mates ; and to her sore heart even May and Bob’s 
friendship seemed subtly different. 

It was the prevalent feeling that neither Miss El- 
liot’s nor Miss Edwards’ paper deserved honorable 
mention. The latter had cheated through design, 
while Merle ’s paper certainly showed evidence of 
help on that hastily scrawled verb ; and the note 
found in her desk, which Miss Edwards had showed, 
clinched it. The pad on which she had scribbled her 
attempts at its conjugation, and the final correct 
one before the receipt of the note, had been torn off ; 


137 


1S8 


MERLE AND MAY 


and she now had no proof to clear herself, if she 
had so chosen. Miss Silvia’s quotation in the album 
stung her pride, and her very evident loss of interest 
in this scholar reacted. The impulse to let Miss 
Silvia and her French go to the dogs, and to assume 
a don’t-care air, was certainly strong; but Merle’s 
pride was stronger, and the fear of lowering herself 
still lower kept her above board, though the sight of 
Kettell ’s green-covered grammar, and the hours that 
its mastery demanded, were very bitter. 

To the matter she never alluded in any way, but 
its injustice rankled, school became distasteful, and, 
as she said, losing interest there, which was her little 
world, she lost interest in everything. 

Since her first talk with Mrs. Norton, in which she 
had awakened to the fact that her own complaints 
were selfish and self-centred. Merle had put many 
faithful days on file; days when the little flat was' 
clean and warm, and a cozy supper and a smiling 
daughter awaited her father’s home-coming. 

After a number of such days Merle felt an 
aureole growing round her saintly head, and usually 
took a little respite, resting on her laurels. The flat 
might have been a barometer to register its youthful 
mistress’ every mood, so greatly did its indications 
vary. Yet little by little Merle took pleasure in 


ALL^S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 139 


right doing — a savage sort of pleasure it may be, 
for she was not a meek lamb that took kindly to her 
shearings ; and she had many of them, poor dear ! 
before she found their value. 

Infinite possibilities of character were locked up 

in Merle ; she was a precious diamond in the rough ; 
but it took many knocks and some hard rubbing to 
round off rough comers, and bring these possibilities 
to the light. 

There were days when she came home to a cold, 
untidy sitting-room, and to a dreary, cluttered 
kitchen ; when the fires would n’t burn and the lamp 
smoked, and washing dishes seemed an endless curse; 
days when both ends would not meet despite her best 
efforts ; days when Della’s insistent demands for 
breakage bills, etc., spoilt her most cherished plans, 
and taxed all her ingenuity to keep her own self neat 
and suitable for school; days when she longed for an 
easy life, for love and care, for fine clothes and social 
prestige, for a large following of devoted admirers, 
and all the pretty nothings that make up a young 
girl’s dream and love of admiration. 

And then a reproachful look from Mrs. Norton’s 
kindly eyes, and the WTireproachful look in her 
father ’s tired face, reminding her of the other 
Father, the Heavenly One, would shake Merle out of 


140 


MERLE AND MAY 


her Slough of Despond into a repentant mood, in 
which sackcloth and ashes and fervent prayers for 
which sack-cloth and ashes and fervent prayers for 
help did in very truth figure largely. 

Then the little suite became miraculously clean and 
cozy, and a charming daughter presided at an invit- 
ing little supper, and lent an indulgent ear to her 
father’s socialistic tendencies ; — though the dear man 
often became so absorbed in his Utopian reading 
that he failed to notice the spandy clean table-cloth, 
the silver polished for his pleasure, the perfect con- 
sistency of his custard, or the generous depth of his 
frosting. 

Literary tendencies had Merle, and, supper over, 
she dearly loved to shut herself up in the solitude of 
her blue room and scribble through blank ledgers, 
and in diaries past their prime. INIany a night she 
pinioned ]\Iay in her web of woven fancy, — hair- 
raising myths, that took all the mirth out of May’s 
merry face, and transfixed her blue eyes into an 
expression more owl-like than ever. Such a blood- 
curdling power of imagination had Merle that once, 
seated on the top stair in a whispering gloom, she 
conjured up a black and horny devil that suddenly 
leaped from out the statue-shrine in the wall. May 
leaped too, and made a swift exit from fancy’s 
fright down the banister rail. So magic was Merle’s 


ALVS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 141 


art, and so real was May ’s terror, that it took many 
months before she could pass the statue-shrine with- 
out breaking into a cold sweat, unless in close com- 
pany, or in the demon-dispelling rays of a lighted 
lamp. 

While the sackcloth-and-ashes mood prevailed 
Merle forewent her literary tendencies, and lent her 
company for her father ’s pleasure. Then she lis- 
tened, sewdng in hand, to strange socialistic tenets 
and to weighty editorials of state, looking very 
wise, very self-sacrificing, and altogether charming. 
She tried to be patient with his shortcomings, remem- 
bering that he w^as so with hers ; to treat his hobbies 
less harshly ; to be interested in the little curios and 
knicknacks he was fond of buying, though it wasted 
needed money; and to dust his room without displac- 
ing them, or throwing them away. She tried to take 
pleasure in the thought that he leaned on her, re- 
membering his lonely and disappointed life; and in 
the meantime was learning herself, through much 
up-hill climbing and some stumbling, that life was 
not a question of how much one got out of it, but 
rather how much one gave to it; was learning that 
the care of her tired, absorbed father was the duty 
nearest her hand. 

The last few weeks had slipped by with praise- 


142 


MERLE AND MAY 


worthy endeavor and precious little fun — a wretch- 
edly inconsistent way they have of doing, — and Merle 
was beginning to feel restless and rebellious, and to 
long for some pleasant turning in her long, dull 
“ lane.” 

It was Friday, and coming home from school she 
dropped into a rocker and tossed her bag of books 
aside. She was glad the week’s grind was over, 
for her honor had not been cleared, and though 
nothing had been said to her, it seemed to Merle as 
if an undercurrent of feeling had been stirring of 
late that made the affair personal again. 

She sat rocking listlessly back and forth, her mind 
filled with unpleasant musings, when the patter of 
tiny feet sounded on the stair, and in a moment 
Roy presented his smiling little person for her 
welcome. 

Roy often made pilgrimages to the upper suite, 
being very fond of his dear “ Mer-Mer ” — likewise 
of her syrup jug — which made his journeys very 
sweet indeed. 

Merle lifted him on her lap, but he repulsed her 
caress, evidently having weightier matters in hand. 
So, after a deal of wriggling and tugging, he re- 
lieved his diminutive pocket of a diminutive letter, 
which bore no stamp but was addressed, “ Miss Merle 
Elliot.” Merle tore open the seal, and read: 


ALUS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 143 


“ Dear ^Ierle : 

“ I tremble to ask you to come over to-night for 
fear you will think yourself a last thought. 

“ Truth is, I heard that the Captain and Mrs. 
White were liable to return soon, and as I ’ve been 
planning for some time for a lark while the coast was 
clear, I decided tout de suite. 

“ Don’t play me any tricks in nursing your 
grievance ; ‘ be generous,’ as I once heard a certain 
siren advise. 

“ Would 3 ’ou mind wearing your white dress, with 
pink in your hair.? Don’t be frightened, I’m all 
right — only notional. 

“ I always feel that I have the privilege to sup- 
ply my neighbors with flowers, and I ’ll call for you 
— it may be late — being the host, but let May come 
first, and you wait for me. I have a reason for ask- 
ing it, which I ’ll explain later. 

“ Yours at his wit’s end, 

“ Bob.” 

“ Well, that ’s what I call cool, babykins ! ” com- 
mented Merle. A party, and only a few hours to 
prepare. But, we ’ll go, — oh yes, good times are n’t 
so plentiful that we can afford to miss them in order 
to nurse grievances ; and we ’ll be so gracious, so 
charming, that the next time perhaps we won’t be 
a ‘ last thought.’ 


144 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Now that I think of it, I believe May knew of 
tliis affair. She’s been terribly absorbed in some- 
thing the last few days, and when I went into her 
room unexpectedly she jumped, and said something 
about airing her blue mull which was spread on the 
bed. 

Oh, well. May makes warmer friends than I do, 
and goes more, and entertains in return. Bob has 
never stepped his foot inside my rooms; he owes me 
nothing, so why should I be the first thought ” 

]\Iay came speeding up the stairs to interrupt this 
bitter musing, and burst into the room waving a 
small envelope, the duplicate of Merle’s. 

‘‘ Have you received yours ? ” 

‘''Yes, just now, — sweet time to inform one! 
When did you get yours ? ” 

“What shall you wear.^^” exclaimed May, looking 
very guilty about the eyes, and very weak about the 
mouth ; “ that is, you ’ll wear your mull, of course.” 

“ That or my night-dress. Bob says, ‘ Would 
you mind wearing white, with pink in your hair.? ’ ” 

“ Heavens I what a perfectly imbecile request — 
f rom a Harvard man too ! ” 

“ Don’t play ’possum dear, you ’re too transpar- 
ent for such skilful work Tell me how came your 
neighbor to remember me at all ? to please you ? ” 
“To please me! neighbor! Have you any 


"ALVS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 145 


salts handy? I feel faint! Ta-ta, you suspicious 
wretch; ask for expalnations at headquarters. In 
the meantime set your fears at rest, and cultivate 
your best expression.” 

Left to herself, jNIerle did cultivate her ‘‘ best ex- 
pression,” for her heart was young, and it took little 
to quicken its beating. Her pang of jealousy soon 
died in the prospect of a pleasant evening, and her 
household duties suddenly became quite glorified as 
she sang and skipped about, preparing supper and 
clearing it away. 

It is a surprising fact that a bath, the brushing 
of hair, and the donning of a simple mull dress should 
require some hours for their completion, but as a 
humble historian I am constrained to admit facts. 
It was dark and the gas lighted before our heroine 
had succeeded in coiling the pretty waves of silky 
brown hair in place, amidst which the stipulated pink 
bow sat jauntily; and nearly eight by the church 
clock when the white mull was satisfactorily donned, 
and its pink girdle clasped round a healthy little 
waist. 

Merle was bent on shining that night, if only to 
surprise her hard-hearted and thoughtless neighbor ; 
and she consulted her mirror long and intimately, 
and smiled derisively at its very evident answer. 
Not quite satisfied with results, however, she skilfully 

lO 


146 


MERLE AND MAY 


blackened lier eyebrows with a charred match, and 
chalked her cheeks. She looked very stagey and al- 
together magnificent from a distance, but after 
wriggling into her long closet for her waterproof 
cape, and getting warm and excited by reason of 
Bob’s delay, she was appalled to find a black smooch 
across her Juno forehead, and a mottled, smallpoxy 
marking on her chalky, perspiring cheeks. She fled 
for water, emerged fresh and rosy, and was sensible 
enough to leave well-enough alone. 

May had gone to the party long ago, having mut- 
tered some excuse, which was sw'allowed up in the 
slam of the front door. Restless and indignant that 
Bob should see fit to keep her waiting at his pleas- 
ure, Merle descended to Mrs. Norton to get sym- 
pathy for her grievance and a good look in her 
cheval mirror. 

What was her amazement to find the rooms not 
only dark, but deserted, save for Roy asleep in his 
crib ! 

This phenomenal state of affairs portended some- 
thing — what.f^ Merle cudgelled her brains to answer 
that query, when a swift step sounded on the porch, 
and the bell tinkled with a vigorous pull. 

Remembering her resolve to be gracious at all 
costs, thereby heaping coals of fire upon her host’s 


’ALVS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 147 


ungracious head, Merle opened the door, and stood 
smiling the most melting of smiles. 

“ If you were n’t an angel, you ’d shut the door 
in my face ; but it could n’t be helped, and I ’ll ex- 
plain later,” said Bob, breathless with haste. “ You 
can’t go up-stairs over there to take off your wraps 
— it ’s so deuced late, — will }mu pin on these flowers 
here? ” 

Merle lifted the bunch of pink roses nervously 
from the box, thanked the giver, and said as she 
fastened them carelessly into her belt, “ You 
should have let me run over with May and not both- 
ered. I ’m used to waiting on myself, and those 
college girls of yours are not, you know.” 

Bob opened his mouth to speak, but wisely closed 
it and hurried his guest through the yards and up 
his piazza. 

‘‘ Can’t you throw off your wrap here in the ves- 
tibule?” he whispered, “It’s so late!” 

Merle shook off her cape, ignoring help, saying to 
herself as her throat tightened, “ He ’s ashamed of 
my poor things and wants to keep them out of sight. 
This night over, I ’ll act what I said to May, and 
keep away from people who are socially so far above 
me.” 

Down the hall Merle walked quickly, hurt and in- 


Ii8 


MERLE AND MAY 


dignant, stepped one foot over the parlor threshold 
— and stood rooted to the spot. 

The two parlors had been thrown into one, and the 
walls were lined with her classmates, — rows on rows 
of young girls all in white, each carrying a pink 
rose, representative of the class color. Far in one 
corner May’s frousled head loomed up from behind 
a bust of Bach, where the emotional one had en- 
sconced herself in case the scene should prove too 
affecting. Near her stood Mrs. Norton in her rich 
black lace, and her kind eyes rested on the figure at 
the threshold with proud satisfaction. 

Miss Silvia was leaning against a little table, look- 
ing pale and somewhat tremulous. She had prepared 
an appropriate speech, illustrative of the most subtle 
points of rhetoric and grammar, and had it all 
learned by heart, but as her eyes met those of the 
tall girl in the doorway, her own filled, she forgot 
her fine words, forgot everything except the in- 
justice she had done her, and stepping swiftly across 
the room, folded the girl in her arms. 

There were several audible sniffs, Mrs. Norton 
openly bedewed her Duchess lace, while May gave 
a convulsive gulp in an effort to swallow her emotion, 
and even Bob muttered something about its being 
close and pulled down a window. 

“ Girls,” said Miss Silvia, “ I publicly disgraced 


ALUS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 149 


this dear girl in recalling her honorable mention, for 
her paper was excellent from first to last. Circum- 
stances were against her, I admit, but her innocence 
has been proved now by the receipt, from a friend, 
of the paper she used that day, on which her verb 
is correctly conjugated after many trials. Miss Ed- 
wards has further confessed that her note was not 
solicited. 

“ We all take pleasure, dear, in asking your par- 
don for making your life so hard, — I most of all ; and 
I love and honor more dearly than words can express 
a girl who has the character to walk cleanly through 
such an expeirence without attempts to clear herself 
when it would pull another down ; a girl who has 
never resented my disappointment in her by a mo- 
ment’s shirking of her studies, but to-day leads her 
class. Girls, if you want a safe model, here she 
stands ! ” 

Merle’s glance swept round the room; many pairs 
of eyes met hers kindly; then it blotted — this sea 
of faces — and her own eyes filled with tears. 

Terrified lest Merle should be overcome. May sud- 
denly raised her rose on high and shouted, — “ Girls ! 
What ’s the matter with Merle Elliot.^ ” 

Then came the deafening response from many 
earnest voices — “ She ’s all RIGHT ! ! ” and with the 
retort came a rain of roses, filling her outstretched 


150 


MERLE AND MAY 


arms, lianging pendant in her dress, and strewing 
the floor about her. 

Very pretty she looked in her fragrant framing, 
with a soft light in her proud eyes that became her 
best, — very pretty indeed, as she said in a low voice 
that would get choky now and then, — 

“ I can ’t thank you as I want to, girls, all, each 
one — and the dear friend who helped me out of my 
tangle; but — I can borrow from Shakespeare — Miss 
Silvia always encourages us in that ” (with a smile) — 
“ and say, ‘ All ’s well that ends well ! ’ ” 

The speech was greeted with three deafening 
cheers, a general shaking of hands, and the breaking 
of ranks. 

Then Bob came out strong, and earned an en- 
viable name as host, providing no end of fun, and 
winding up with a collation in the mahogany dining- 
room that made Merle ’s head swim with pride and 
satisfaction. 

Wonderfully easy of fulfilment Merle found her 
resolve to be “ gracious and charming,” for the pre- 
vailing air of admiration, together with the luxuri- 
ousness of Bob’s catering, made an atmosphere very 
easy to her breathing. Quite like a queen she felt as 
she moved through the stately rooms surrounded by 
her admiring cortege — a queen, wise to make the 


ALUS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 


151 


most of this hour’s crowning, though the morrow 
should waken her to a work-a-day world. 

I venture to say that the discreet butler never 
came so near losing his discretion as he did that 
night when the rooms rang with jolly shouts, and all 
sorts of odd perpetrations were practised. 

Mrs. Norton left early to guard her crib, and May 
held high carnival, indulging in lobster salad, welsh 
rarebit, and variegated ices, as a relief to the emo- 
tional tension she had endured earlier in the evening. 

Merle bowed out the last guest and skipped back 
to the parlor to bunch her roses, and to think. She 
had food for thought. Who had found the paper 
that exonerated her.^ Where had it come from? She 
and Bob had not once met during the evening, ex- 
cept when he had taken her into the dining-room as 
his guest of honor. His duties as host excused this, 
but now that it was all over, it occurred to Merle that 
he had avoided her. A suspicion of the truth told 
her why, and she ransacked her mind for proof. 

She heard the butler close and lock the front door; 
evidently he thought hi s labors over. May had gone, 
but she had lingered to say good-by to all, and to 
await her escort. 

She heard Bob giving low-toned directions to the 
servants, then his firm step came briskly down the 


152 


MERLE AND MAY 


hall. In a twinkling he stood in the doorway, and 
his eyes went from Merle to her labyrinth of roses. 
Tlie flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la, 

H ave nothing to do with the case I ’ ” 
sang Merle. 

“ ‘ I ’ve got to take under my wing, tra-la, 

A most attractive young thing, tra-la, 

With a love ’ 

with a love of a face,” improvised Bob in answer 
as he waltzed up to his partner, and offered his arm 
with a profound bow. 

‘‘ No; I ’ve had larks enough for one night,” said 
Merle, suddenly growing serious. 

“ A penny for your thoughts ma’am.” 

“ Who was the knight that slew my dragon, Bob.^ ” 

“Why button-hole me.^ ” 

“ Don ’t dodge ! I let you off easily once ; you ’ve 
got to stand muster now.” 

“ I helped you into it — the trouble — it was no 
more than fair ” 

“ But I forgave you that.” 

“ Not really — you tried to — but you don’t fool 
me, you know. I did n’t much blame you either, but 
I set to work to see what reparation I could make to 
win back your good graces. Nothing came till I 
was about to give up the matter as a bad job. Then 
the other day, as I was rummaging through some 


ALVS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 153 


papers, I came across this. It was the paper you 
tore off your pad for me when I wanted to write an 
address, — that morning I walked down with you to 
school and you told me about the affair.” 

“ I remember now, and I told you it was scribbled 
over, but you said you ’d use the back.” 

“ I knew I could n’t make matters worse, so I wrote 
the whole affair to Miss Silvia and enclosed the 
paper.” 

“ Bob ! ” 

“ Hold on ! She came flying out here, and I never 
saw any one so excited. So all in a jiffy we planned 
the whole affair, and it was no fool of a job to keep 
you in the dark — but was n’t it a rouser? ” 

“ A perfect rouser from first to last. Bob ; and 
oh! I feel so proud; but Miss Silvia owed me some- 
thing — you did n’t, — and now ” 

Now you are hopelessly in debt, lady.” 

“ Mrs. Norton says we should repay our social 
debts,” said Merle laughing, “ but if it ’s hope- 
less ” 

Don’t try till I send in my bill.” 

“ Still, debts gather interest, and I ’d rather pay 
mine as I go along,” said Merle wickedly. 

“ The more interest, the better — in this case.” 

“ What if it should get outlawed I ” 

“ Thanks for the caution. I ’ll have to look out 


154 


MERLE AND MAY 


for that and not delay too long; and in the mean- 
time would you mind preparing for it? ” 

Merle paused in the bunching of her roses, and said 
as she held out a particularly long and beautiful 
one, — “ What a pity they have to have thorns 
to ” 

The remark was certainly harmless, and doubtless 
would have reached its finish if Merle had kept her 
eyes on the rose, but chancing to look up, she fal- 
tered, blushed, and murmured something about its 
being warm — and late. 

Bob laughed, admitted that it might be warm be- 
side an open grate, and then obediently went into 
the hall for her wrap. 

The butler unlocked the door, and profoundly 
bowed the pair out. The piazza was dark, the steps 
treacherous, and Merle burdened with flowers. What 
more natural than that she should need a guiding 
hand? She had it anyway, two strong ones, and even 
after the safety of the walk was reached. Bob sud- 
denly drew her hand within his arm, and said as 
he held it, which was necessary for emphasis of 
course : 

“ All ’s well that ends well, as you said. Merle, 
but remember that just now you ’re deep in debt! ” 


CHAPTER IX 

MAY SHUNS SCYLLA AND FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 

May paused in the onslaught she was making on a 
ruddy apple, removed her feet from the chair upon 
which they were airily perched, tucked her book un- 
der the chair’s cushion (a book she was guarding 
from too particular eyes), and said, as she seated 
herself on a hassock at her mother ’s knee, — 

Are you going to make me your confidante, 
dearie? or is the black sheep going to get a 
shearing? ” 

Both, — the first not because she deserves it, but 

because I find it necessary ; the last ” 

‘‘ Don ’t trouble to go into particulars, it ’s the 
same old story. When I ’m sick it ’s because I ’ve 
had too much fun ; when I ’m lame, it ’s always skat- 
ing, never sweeping — ‘ housework ’s healthy ’ ; when 
I ’ve a cold, it ’s going out between the dances, never 
washing dishes in a cold basement ; when I ’m blue, 
it ’s my nerves worn out with gallivanting, never be- 
cause I ’m pining for a little fun. I ’m like popcorn 


155 


156 


MERLE AND MAY 


that needs an occasional shaking up, else I ’d burn — 
with idleness ! Well, here ’s for the shaking.” 

“ You can’t be serious even when I ask you. Have 
you your lessons for to-day ? ” 

“ I never study till night.” 

“ Have you practised ” 

“ I shall do double practice to-morrow.” 

‘‘And the dishes downstairs, and a few little 
tasks I asked you to help me out with.^^ ” 

“ I ’ll go now ” 

“ Sit still. What was that book you were 
reading.^ ” 

“ It ’s — all the girls are reading it, mother — you 
have to have experience with the bad as well as the 
good, so that you can choose.” 

“ I don’t believe in the theory of swilling wine all 
your life in hopes to escape drunkenness in old 
age. I don’t leave arsenic round for Roy to taste, 
that his system may get inoculated. I keep poison, 
both physical and moral, out of my children’s way — 
so long as they will let me.” 

“ I ’ll not read any more if you say so — it has n’t 
hurt me so far, mother.” 

“I hope not, but you’re no judge of that. My 
mother used to say, — ‘ Never allow a vulgar story 
to be repeated in your hearing. What right has 
any one to 'poison your mind.^ You may be above 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 


157 


enjoying it, but once heard it ’s there to rankle, to 
suggest, — a dirty, needless, cankerous deposit.’ ” 
My set are above repeating vulgar stories,” 
said May with an injured air. 

‘‘ But evidently they ’re not above reading vulgar 
books. A book that you feel like hiding from me is 
not fit for you to touch. Put it in the grate.” 

“ It ’s a library book ! ” 

“ So much the better ; it will save some innocent 
mind from its poisoning perhaps and you can pay 
for it out of your allowance. If I ever find you 
again with a book you can’t leave openly about. May, 
I shall forbid your having a library card. It’s my 
candid opinion, anyway, you ’d spend more time on 
your lessons without it.” 

I thought reading was educational.” 

“ It is n’t educating you very fast, according to 
your last report. Do you know what I have writ- 
ten after my signature, where remarks are re- 
quested.^ ” 

‘‘ What, mother.? ” 

“ ‘ This is a shameful report. The teachers who 
labor so faithfully for such disappointing results, 
have all my sympathy.’ ” 

“Oh, mother! I’m too old for such reproof as 
that.” 

“ Too old for such a report, rather, May. I can’t 


158 


MERLE AND MAY 


imagine what your dear father would have felt. Did 
you do your mending to-day before you took your 
bath.f^ ” 

“ I forgot it till I was undressed.” 

“ So you put on your stockings full of holes, and 
your underclothing buttonless ” 

“ I intend to fix them all to-night.” 

“ You are laying up a great many things for one 
who expects to go out.” 

“ Oh, I forgot the social.” 

“ I won’t go through any more lists, May ; you 
see for yourself how matters stand ; and I took such 
comfort in thinking of your promise to fill Grace’s 
place ! ” 

“ I did intend to, and I have tried.” 

“ Your intentions are good. May, but impulsive 
like the rest of you; they lack steadfastness. I have 
done your work day after day while you went skat- 
ing; I have had absolutely no help with Roy except 
from Merle; I have watched you neglect your studies 
and your music ; and I have done all your sewing, 
unless it went undone as to-day. I wanted to see 
how far you would go if I said nothing. Do you 
think I ’m fair in what I say.? ” 

I am a black sheep, mother.” 

“ I never like to sadden my girls with family mat- 
ters which they cannot help, and I keep many worries 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 


159 


to myself, May, just so long as I think it best. But 
there comes a time when I feel that confidence must 
be given and the burdens shared. You are nearly 
seventeen, and plenty old enough to take some re- 
sponsibility and thought — it must be my fault that 
you don’t.” 

Mrs. Norton stroked the idle little hand that rested 
on her knee, and seemed reluctant, after all, to make 
her disclosure. 

“ I have been hiring Bridget extra of late to help 
me out ; I ’m not nearly so strong as I used to be. 
Papa’s long illness, and the worry about Grace, 
and Roy coming so late, have taken a good deal out 
of me. But the store is n’t doing quite so well, 
economy is imperatively necessary, and I wondered 
whether you ’d rather help with the work, or drop 
your music.” 

“ The store.? ” 

“ Yes, we can ’t expect a hired man to do what 
papa did. He bent every energy to its success, and 
really killed himself working to leave us safe and 
comfortable.” 

It seems so nice to talk cozy and intimate like 
this,” said May straightening her broad shoulders. 
“ I feel responsible already, and I ’ll help you and 
keep the music, because I think that will please you 
best. If I had n’t spent my allowance, I ’d pay for 


160 


MERLE AND MAY 


part, but I ’ll make up for that in effort. Will 
that do? ” 

“ For the present, yes,” admitted Mrs. Norton, 
feeling that somehow May had failed to take the 
matter as seriously as she had intended her to do. 

Go quietly about your tasks, do each day’s share, 
and don’t expect either praise or blame from me. 
I shall watch you, but say nothing, for I don’t mean 
to treat you like a child much longer, dear. Don’t 
expect me to be constantly saying, ‘ Do this,’ and 
‘ Do that,’ when you know as well as I do that the 
thing must be done and it ’s your duty to do it. Try 
to feel responsible, and anxious to share the burdens 
as well as the pleasures of home ; then some day 
you ’ll be ready for one of your own.” 

“ Don’t want any, ma’am. Much prefer single 
blessedness. You can marry off Grace and Merle, 
but please don’t plan for me.” 

‘‘ I ’m not planning for any one, and certainly not 
for you, you weathercock!” 

“ Still, there ’s Bob. I heard you praising him, 
hoping he ’d get the choice of his heart,” said May, 
striking a sentimental attitude with her hand spread 
dramatically over that susceptible organ, — “ and 
here only the other day you said Merle was getting 
to be a model housekeeper, and would make somebody 


MAY FALLS INTO CIIARYBDIS 


I6l 


happy ! Putting two and two together, what do we 
have? ” 

“ A lot of nonsense, you silly girl. Merle is n’t 
out of school, and Bob not half through college.” 

“ Stranger things have happened ! ” 

“ And Merle has sense enough, I know, to fit her- 
self for something useful before she ties herself up.” 
“ I ’m astonished at the disrespectful manner in 
which you speak of the holy matrimonial state ! ” 

“ I ’m speaking of it in reference to fledglings, 
that have n’t shed their pin-feathers.” 

“ I thought I had reached woman’s estate what 
with the burdens you have imposed on my shoulders ! ” 
laughed May, as her mother winced a little at her 
cornering retort. “ But I ’ll let you off, you in- 
consistent monitor, if you ’ll only tell me whether it 
has ever occurred to you that your next-door neigh- 
bor is solicitous for the welfare of your upstairs 
tenant ? ” 

“ Why, Merle is very pretty, of course,” admitted 
Mrs. Norton. 

“ Of course ! ” 

“ And doubtless he does n’t snub her ” 

“ Doubtless he does n’t ! ” 

“But as for anything more, I certainly haven’t 
seen it.” 


162 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Which speaks very poorly for your new glasses, 
mother.” 

“ And I ’m sure she never ” 

“No more she does, which is a very bad sign from 
her. But she dotes on music, thinks ‘ White ’ a 
lovely name, so pure and all that, and has worn pink 
in her hair for a month! ” 

“ I did n’t know you could be so sentimental. 
May I 

“ I know all the symptoms, though I steer clear 
of the disease.” 

“ Don’t keep me here talking nonsense any lon- 
ger. Just take your meddlesome finger out of your 
neighbor’s pie, and devote this wasted energy to 
some purpose.” 

“ I will mother, I will.” 

May did devote her wasted energy to some pur- 
pose, for a while. Days flew by when the sink w^as 
innocent of dishes, when glasses were shined, knives 
polished, the stove blackened, and the hearth swept. 
Mrs. Norton held her breath — w^ould have choked 
holding it if she had not been a mother wise enough 
from experience to know that this seraphic state of 
affairs would blow over into one less wunged. 

Blow" over it did, this particular stage, and May 
next devoted her energies to her sewing. Right 
through her wardrobe from A to Z she passed, and a 


MAY FALLS INTO CIIARYBDIS 


163 


very long alphabet it was. Buttons, tapes, and loose 
edgings were reinforced, rents repaired, holes 
patched, stockings darned, — magic darning was 
May’s, with a corn or a bunion promised for each 
toe. Her energies outlasting the stock in hand. 
May even turned to Roy’s aprons ; and once, only 
once, she was found hemming a dish towel, tied into 
an arm-chair for the better expansion of her lungs, 
with such an expression of dove-like meekness that 
even a saint would have been provoked to laughter. 

Next in order came practising, and such hours of 
stormy work as May put in, clearing the house of 

rats and sadly disturbing the peace of the neighbor- 
hood. Mrs. Norton felt as if delirium tremens or 

something similar were coming on, and Grandmother 
after her weekly visit was threatened with a nervous 
f ever. 

Baby-tending came next, and Roy led a charmed 
life, wondering what magic had transformed his 
somewhat irritable May into the most ardent of baby 
worshippers. While this lasted Mrs. Norton went 
shopping in her best black walking costume, and 
made up a long arrears of calls. 

This over. May turned to her books, and in truth 
burned the midnight oil. She scorched her bangs 
under the student ’s lamp, strained her eyes strug- 
gling with fine print, and began to blink and squint 


164 


MERLE AND MAY 

and go into such facial contortions that Mrs. Nor- 
ton consulted the family medical book for the early 
symptoms of St. Vitus’ dance. During this Socratic 
wrestling, May grew pale and round-shouldered, 
eschewed pickled limes, read Pilgriins Progress, and 
was never once found with her feet higher than the 
hassock. Then, fortunately, two or three dances 
streaked the horizon and saved May from an early 
grave, for being once waked up she leaned back on 
her oars and drifted — back into her jolly old self. 

Mrs. Norton did the dishes and neglected work 
without reproof, or when too weary installed Bridget. 
She tried to do her sewing and May’s also, which 
soon fell behind. She had the constant care of Roy, 
together with the grief of seeing the music and 
studies neglected as before. 

“ I envy mothers who can discipline their girls 
by heart-to-heart talks,” mused Mrs. Norton as she 
sat hemming interminable lengths of sheeting, while 
May munched pop-corn, and sat reading with her 
feet comfortably toasting on the fender. “ With 
Grace I could, but May is different; and to veneer 
facts, I ’m fast coming to the conclusion, does not 
pay with her.” 

“You can’t have any — don’t touch me! Go 
away ! ” snapped May, as Roy leaned a very loving 
httle person against her chair and sniffed for corn. 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 


165 


Now Roy had a little of May’s blood in his own 
small veins, and it took far more diplomacy than his 
two years had taught him to meet her successfully in 
her various moods. Furthermore he had not fully 
recovered from the halcyon days just passed, and 
he suffered from neglect, for Mrs. Norton had been 
too busy for several days to give him his airing, and 
the close confinement was upsetting his little nerves. 

Roy resented this uncalled for repulse, and biding 
his time made a wild dash, intending to retreat with 
the pan of corn. He missed his aim, however, and 
finding himself burdened with a useless book, imme- 
diately threw it into the open grate. May made an 
equally wild dash for the tongs, having no notion 
of absorbing another month ’s allowance in library 
losses, upsetting her corn and scorching her fingers 
in its rescue. 

Repaying Roy with a smart box on the ear. May 
hitched her chair to the other side of the room, 
leaving her tormentor to revel in the scattered corn 
if he so chose. Roy received his blessing silently and 
fell to work. 

Soon the pan was refilled with corn, salt, and un- 
avoidable lint, together with a generous scooping 
with both little hands of the grate ’s fallen ashes. 
In a twinkling Roy was on his feet, and the pan on 
May’s head. 


166 


MERLE AND MA Y 


‘‘You hateful child!” screamed May snatching 
off the sooty covering, and making a dash after the 
swiftly retreating Roy. “ I ’ll shake the very 
breath out of you ! ” 

Down the hall, through the parlor, the pair swept, 
the little tan shoes doing bravely, but in the turning 
by the what-not Roy faltered, and May had him in 
her clutches in a wdnk. She might have shaken the 
breath out of him if Mrs. Norton had not hastened 
to his rescue, for May had a high temper when fully 
roused, and was sometimes very thoughtless. 

As it was Roy had no breath left to cry, but clung 
to his mother’s skirts, while INIay caught up her 
book, swept out of the room, and locked herself up in 
high dudgeon. 

Whether she fell asleep, or was oblivious to 
time in the throes of her reading I can’t say, but it 
was dark and long after tea time before she emerged 
from her seclusion, and stood blinking and yawning 
in the doorway. 

“ Goodness, I ’m as hungry as a bear ! What ’s 
good for supper, mother? ” 

“ I can’t stop to get supper ; you ’ll have to wait 
on yourself to-night. This sewing is behind, and 
I ’ve lost a couple of hours with Roy.” 

May glanced at the crib, surprised to find its oc- 
cupant asleep at this early hour, his pretty little 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 167 


face pale and tear-stained. Several handkerchiefs 
covered with blood lay about, and a wet sheet was 
drying over the register. 

“ Has Roy had the nosebleed ? ” 

‘‘ A very serious one. I suppose I ought not to 
let him sleep, but ” 

May felt the atmosphere’s low register, and the 
guilty knowledge of her contribution to its lowering 
made her anxious to make amends. 

“ I ’ll run down and get supper, and when I ring 
you wake Roy and come.” 

“Pray don’t bother me; just wait on yourself. 
Roy is too sick to disturb, and these sheets are 
promised.” 

“ Promised ! ” gasped May. 

“ I ’m doing them for Miss Norcross’ marriage.” 
“As a gift, mother.^” 

“No; they’ll pay me.” 

“ Pay you ! ” stammered May, turning as pale as 
the sleeping Roy. 

“ I told you some time ago that the store was n’t 
doing so well. I can do this better than heavier 
work, and it will pay Bridget.” 

“ Oh, mother ! mother ! ” cried May, clasping her, 
sheet and all, in her arms, “ oh mother, dear, what a 
wicked, good-for-nothing wretch I am!” 

“ Never mind lamenting. May; I told you enough 


168 


MERLE AND MAY 


to guide you if you had so chosen. Just leave me 
alone to finish this, for the lamp is n’t filled, and I 
want to make the most of it while it lasts.” 

Mrs. Norton pushed her gently aside, and took up 
her work; while May, repulsed for the first time in 
her life, got down-stairs someway, and, locking her- 
self into the pantry, bedewed the pickle and preserve 
jars with some very honest and repentant tears.' 
How she ever saw to toast the bread, or brewed the 
tea with anything but tears, she never knew, but she 
prepared her tray in the daintiest manner, hoping 
to break down her mother ’s reserve and to be com- 
forted and forgiven in her loving arms. But 
Mrs. Norton was too busy to eat, and the toast cooled 
untasted till Pickles gobbled it up on the sly, and 
upset the tea into the bargain. 

Roy woke and had another attack of nosebleed ; 
and as all offers of help were coldly repulsed. 
May reached for her nightdress, and betook herself 
off with no good-night kiss. 

Perhaps she lay awake thinking; at least she woke 
late the next morning, and was surprised to find 
how late, for the house was quiet and no one moving 
save Merle overhead. 

It certainly was an unusual state of affairs that 
kept her mother in bed, but Mrs. Norton complained 
of feeling used up. She was sorry to leave things to 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 169 


May, but thought it wise to rest. She had a severe 
cold and felt altogether queer. 

“ Dress Roy and keep him from pattering round 
these cold rooms barefooted, else you ’ll have two 
sick,” commanded Mrs. Norton in a dolorous tone. 

But Roy would have nothing to do with his late an- 
tagonist, and led May a merry chase in her patient 
efforts to beguile him. 

‘‘ Leave him alone then, and see to things down- 
stairs.” 

“ I ’ll have time to get you something to eat and 
call for Bridget on my way to school,” said May, 
swallowing a sob as she put a stocking on wrong-side- 
out and snapped her elastic. 

“We can’t afford Bridget; you’ll have to see to 
things yourself.” 

“ And stay home from school.^ ” May wished the 
words back the moment they had left her lips, but 
avoiding her mother’s reproachful glance, threw on 
her wrapper, and made all possible haste for the 
basement. 

Although late, it seemed early, as the day was so 
dark ; and May groped about the dingy, cold kitchen, 
wondering where all the sunshine of the little home 
had gone. 

The stove was a black mystery, its dampers hy- 
dra-headed enigmas ; but after much wrestling a fire 


170 


MERLE AND MAY 


was started, and May turned her attention to the 
toast and coffee. Toast had seemed easy only the 
night before with a nicely banked fire, but with a 
sputtering, smoky new one. May learned there was 
art even in this homely fare. She set the burnt, 
soggy slices in the oven, stirred up the coffee with its 
egg, and wondered, after adding the boiling water, 
why the egg flew to the top in a miserable stringy 
mass, instead of settling nicely to the bottom as it 
should do. 

“ I ’ll poach an egg ; it ’s nutritious and as easy as 
pie. I ’ve seen mother do it hundreds of times,” 
said May, smiling at Roy who had descended to bury 
the hatchet, the ticklings of his hungry little nose 
not to be withstood. 

“ You fill the pan full of boiling water and drop 
the egg into the muffin ring so — now you ’ll see it all 
settle nicely and — ” but the egg did n’t settle 
nicely, it flew over the entire pan in a murky veil, 
frothed up at the sides, and finally settled into a 
stringy mass that looked much like lemon-colored 
macaroni. May wiped a tear on the dish towel, 
drained off the boiling water, and threw the pan with 
its gluing of egg into the cellar, where Pickles 
scorched his cold nose in trying to determine its 
contents. 

Covering up the smoky toast with a liberal supply 


MAY FALLS INTO CHARYBDIS 


171 


of butter, May dug the frozen cream from the top 
of the milk bottle, jabbing her fingers with the fork, 
and added her flaky icicle to the already cooling 
coffee. 

‘‘ It does n’t look as good as I meant it should — 
the fire is tricky/’ said the hot and perspiring cook, 
as she offered her unsavory breakfast in an unaired 
room to an unwashed invalid. 

“ Anything will taste good to me, dear,” said the 
relenting mother as she glanced at the flushed and 
worried little face. 

“What will you have for dinner queried the 
head cook, brightening at the relenting voice and 
endearing word. 

“ Anything will do. Get the house warm and 
tidy up ; the furnace drafts are the same as the stove ; 
you study physics, so you know the theory. Of 
course, with an ignorant servant, I should have to 
go into particulars, with you it ’s different.” 

“ Bad air is stagnant and hard to heat ! ” said the 
scholar in physics, as she threw open doors and 
windows to a howling gale, which sent papers scat- 
tering, the bird cage swinging on its hook, and the 
invalid under the bed clothes. 

Later in the day May found reason to lament 
that her mother’s instructions on the furnace drafts 
had left so much to her intelligence. Such a be- 


172 


MERLE AND MA Y 


wildermcnt of slides, knobs, and holes, that however 
you manipulated did exactly the reverse of the ex- 
pected ! May recalled her physics, tried to remem- 
ber which way the arrows pointed in the diagram of 
an air-shaft, and made a chalky duplicate on the 
cellar wall for assistance. In vain. The first half 
of the day the house was frigid, the second half 
torrid, and the invalid was forced to leave her bed 
or submit to certain asphyxiation. 

The lunch was a marvel, the supper a duplicate, 
and after a stormy wrestle in undressing Roy, May 
retired, weary in body and soul, feeling that the 
throes of school and practising had a roseate hue 
In their perspective never before observed. 

The second day the invalid was on the mend, but 
still obliged to keep in bed. As for May, matters 
were even worse. She felt disgraced in not accom- 
plishing what she had failed in the day before; and 
besides the pantry’s previous supply had dwindled, 
and the cook herself was hungry. She was sadly 
disillusioned as to her housewifely accomplishments, 
finding responsibility far different from a few light 
duties. What would happen if her mother were 
seriously ill, and she forced to the helm, was not 
especially pleasant food for thought just then. 
Merle suddenly sprouted wings as May reviewed all 
that her goddess could do and do well; and she felt 


MAY FALLS INTO CHAEYBDIS 


173 


herself shrivelling up into a speck too insignificant 
to dust. Home was no longer home, and something 
of what her mother’s willing hands had accomplished 
was appreciated for the first time. 

Before the week was over the invalid was up, and 
May was receiving a few practical lessons that out- 
lasted her smattering of French and jumble of his- 
torical facts. Meriting her mother’s confidence, she 
got it at last, and the two had a long talk that May 
never forgot. 

“ We ’ll pull in the same boat, mother dear, and 
I ’ll paddle fair,” said the recreant, as financial mat- 
ters were explained and facts laid bare. “ I ’ll give 
up half my allowance; fewer pickled limes will im- 
prove my health; and I want to stop my music this 
quarter, and do justice to what I’ve slighted; and 
then — you won’t do any more sewing for pay — 
promise, mother.” 

“ Never, while I have a generous and thoughtful 
daughter. It rests with you. May.” 

“ Then that shall be my anchor — I need something 
to keep me serious.” 

“ But be happily serious, dear. I want my merry 
May, the life of the house, for I couldn’t get along 
without her.” 

May’s resolve bore good fruit, for her resolve 
was at last deep and honest. She had had an 


MERLE AND MAY 


17i 

unforgetable experience with impulsive spurts, and 
had learned to steer clear of her Charybdis. The 
recollection of her few days of responsibility opened 
her eyes wonderfully, and the fear that her mother 
would do work for pay kept her resolution fresh. 

No saint was May, only a flesh-and-blood girl 
struggling like you and me to do right. Yet she 
must have succeeded in spite of some failures, for, 
as she sat apart one night undressing Roy, and tak- 
ing pleasure in the thought that her tired mother 
was reading, Mrs. Norton watched the pretty picture 
from behind the book, marvelling at May’s gentle 
tone and patient tact that kept Roy docile and smil- 
ing, and thought, as she glanced with misty eyes at 
the dear face that ever smiled from its framing: 
“ Father was right. I shall live yet to say that 
May is my comfort.” 


CHAPTER 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 

“ Mer— le ! ” 

“ Yes, Mrs. Norton.” 

“ Are you home ? ” 

‘‘ Very much so, thank you.” 

“ I just took a Johnny-cake out of the oven, don’t 
you want to come down and help May while it ’s 
hot.^ ” 

Mrs. Norton had a happy knack of turning out 
toothsome edibles just in the nick of time for May 
home f rom school ; and Merle seldom failed to assist 
in their disposition. I doubt if anything often came 
from that oven that some one outside the family 
did not enjoy, for Mrs. Norton’s hospitality was 
unceasing. 

She had a gracious way of extending her treats 
that left one with no chance to think of indebtedness ; 
as for her tea-pot, it should have been enshrined in 
some historical society. I forget how many genera- 
tions it had served, but it was worthy its present 
mistress ; a big, bulging, shiny affair, with a cap that 

i75 


17(3 


MERLE AND MAY 


played tricks and a spout that chirped like a cricket. 
Measured by cups its capacity would doubtless have 
yielded a definite quantity, but given good cheer as 
a unit the quotient seemed limitless. It served all 
alike, from the wealthy friend who sipped it out 
of a Dresden cup, wondering wherein the charm of 
its brewing lay, to the tired, dusty ashman, who 
did n’t mind wetting his whistle, ma ’am. 

Right through the ranks its good cheer passed, 
from the pickle-man who peddled his wares every 
Saturday, the little seamstress who brought a cold 
lunch, the Jew peddler with the pack of mats, down 
to the very tramp that disgraced the county and 
marked her gate-post for the next hanger-on. 
Dear generous soul ! of her the poet must surely have 
thought when he wrote: 

“ She doeth little kindnesses. 

Which most leave undone or despise; 

For naught that sets one heart at ease. 

And giveth happiness or peace. 

Is low-esteemed in her eyes.” 

Merle took the lightning express (banister rail) 
for the basement, and sat in the broad seat of the 

sunny bay with her favorite corner of crusty corn- 
cake, spread liberally with golden butter. 

Opposite sat May gorging, too engrossed for 
speech, until a familiar tread was heard in the 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


177 


kitchen, and in answer to Merle’s questioning ear, she 
vouchsafed this answer, “Jones!” 

May hitched her chair round in readiness to snub 
the intruder — flight being too late; cut a new square 
for Merle, another for herself, spread it carefully, 
and then suddenly laid it on a plate, with which she 
abruptly left the room. 

“ Eat this with your tea, Mrs. Jones ; it ’s hot, and 
mother had uncommonly good luck.” 

“ Oh, thanks, awfully.” 

“ Don’t mention it.” 

]\Iay was back in a wink, slamming the door behind 
her, and dropped into her seat, looking a trifle red, 
and decidedly embarrassed. 

“ Shake ! I ’m proud of you, my dear ! ” said 
Merle, offering her free hand. 

“ Don’t praise me I I hate her fawning ways as 
much as ever; and I could throw the tea-pot at her 
this very minute ; but there ’s no need of my making 
myself a bear. Mother says I only hurt myself, and 
I guess she ’s right, for I ’ve tormented Mrs. Jones 
ever since I can remember, and I don’t see any 
improvement.” 

“ It ’s dreadfully hard to be charitable,” sighed 
Merle. “There’s Bridget; I’ve done and done for 
her in little ways, and even now she never misses a 
chance to steal from me.” 


12 


178 


MERLE AND MAY 


Mother says that is n’t the way to look at it. 
It ’s what one does, not the pay one gets, that 
counts. That Bridget steals is to be regretted, but 
it does n’t lessen the value of your kindness,” pro- 
pounded May in a ministerial tone. “ That ’s what 
they call laying up treasures in heaven, I suppose, 
but it ’s a pity there ’s so much moth and rust to 
wade through down here. Another piece? ” 

“ No ; thanks. I ’ve been thinking. May,” con- 
tinued Merle, embracing her knees thoughtfully, 

“ I ’ve been thinking ” 

“ Of some lark, I hope, — gracious ! was that one 
of the boys flew by on horseback? ” 

“ I ’m not looking at either boys or horses — listen. 
We really ought to go to a Symphony, May. ‘ Green’ 
is no name for the condition we ’re in when it comes 
to any music that ’s really the thing. All the girls 
that amount to an^’^thing go, and it ’s simply mad- 
dening to hear them rave over the musicians and the 
conductor’s waxy hands, and the glib way they rattle 
off those composers’ names, ‘ Vagner ’ and ‘ Cho- 
pang ’ and all that. We must go, if only to say so. 
Suppose I get tickets for Friday? ” 

“ I ’m not particular about being in the swim, 
and if it ’s music, I ’m more than sure of being 
bored. How much does it cost? ” 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


179 


“ The rush seats are only a quarter, but these 
are the kind the real music lovers buy, and it ’s no 
disgrace at all to sit in the gallery. Miss Prince 
has, so we ’re safe. Melba sings this week, and you 
can’t tell how thankful you may be, in company, to 
say you ’ve heard her. Such things make conversa- 
tion — and society.” 

“Friday, did you say.^” 

“ Yes, 2.30. We could have our books all ready 
to rush out of school at the first sound of the gong, 
and we can easily get to Winter Street in the half- 
hour.” 

“ I don’t feel overjoyed at the prospect; it surely 
does n’t sound inviting, but if you think it ’s proper, 
perhaps we may as well go.” 

“ No doubt about the propriety. May. Wear your 
best, and rely on me. Look up some of the promi- 
nent composers’ names for the pronunciation, be- 
cause you may want to air your knowledge while it ’s 
fresh — the programme for the day for instance.” 
By a stroke of luck Merle secured her tickets, and 
with feverish impatience awaited the day. Wednes- 
day it snowed, Thursday it rained, and by F riday the 
streets were swimming in slush, with a threatening 
sky overhead. 

May refused point-blank to wear her best, and so 


180 


MERLE AND MAY 


flustered Merle that they were half-way to school 
before she discovered that she had forgotten the 
tickets. 

A little rift of sun suddenly peeped out from the 
clouds, thawing May, who agreed to turn back and 
to dress herself in keeping with so august an 
occasion. 

But the sun had only played a trick, and hid his 
head — laugliing doubtless — for the rest of the day, 
causing May’s ill-humor to suffer a relapse. 

By the time school was dismissed it was snowing 
lightly, just enough to give the lie to the safety of 
walking, and to dampen one’s ardor, to say nothing 
of one’s best plumage. May got stranded in a bank 
of icy slush, and had to stand stork-fashion on one 
leg, while Merle gingerly extricated her rubber. 
She had scarcely regained her normal position before 
a gust of wind relieved her of her cherished best hat, 
and sent her and a couple of obliging males skimming 
down the street in literally a winged chase. In the 
meantime of course the car came, and in making 
a cross-cut May’s dress was splashed by a too near 
passing cart. The car was crowded, and her forced 
entrance left her by the cold door, under which the 
icy air swept at pleasure and nearly froze her feet. 
In spite of her height she burst her sleeve hanging 
on the straps, and in “ moving up ” tripped over an 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


181 


old man’s cane, and came precious near measuring 
her length in the car straw. This literally proved 
the last straw on the camel’s back, for by the time 
Music Hall was reached, the end of May’s patience 
was reached too. 

She looked like a blighted being, and felt like 
one as she glanced down at her spotted dress, and 
up at the equally spotted hat, and she wedged 
herself irritably into the long line that stood in 
waiting. 

“ If that fiend of a woman pokes me again, I ’ll 
put my elbow right through her,” snapped INIay as 
she stood flattened out in the long line that jostled 
and pushed for precedence. ‘‘ This may be ‘ swell,’ , 
but the people evidently don’t waste their manners 
in the vestibule ! ” 

‘‘ Hush ! don’t make rude remarks ; you can’t tell 
who might hear you ! ” 

“ I hope that Austin-and-Stone monstrosity hears 
me ! if she treads on my heels again she ’ll hear more !” 
croaked May savagely. 

‘‘ Now listen ! when we get through the ticket gate, 
you want to fly for your life, — do you liear.^^ ” 

‘‘ Where.? ” 

“ Up, up, clear to the top of the building.” 

‘‘ I sha’n’t budge an inch ! I have n’t got my 
breath yet, hustling with all these heavy books. 
Can’t we stay downstairs ? ” 


182 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ We can stand in the aisle, — and as we ’re not 
sure of a seat upstairs, perhaps we ’d best.” 

“Do, for goodness’ sake! I’d rather stand till 
I drop. Don’t stick that thing in my face again ; do 
you hear, boy ! ” 

“ Take it ; it ’s the programme,” whispered Merle. 
“ You must read it while they ’re playing, or in the 
interludes.” 

“ I sha’n’t read a word. I ’ve had my nose in a 
book all day 1 ” 

“ But it has notes, descriptive, historical, — see.^ ” 

“ I don’t see anything but ads. Look at that 
brazen picture with corsets right out in plain 
sight I ” 

“ Further front it tells all about it ” 

“All right. Who’s that froggy-looking man 
with the long coat-tails that does n’t know enough to 
face his audience.^ ” 

“ Hush-sh ! it ’s the conductor. He ’s going to 
rap with his baton for them to begin. He ’s famous 
for his beautiful hands; just watch them.” 

“ There ’s a woman — no, she ’s turned back. 
There are two seats vacant down there, could n’t 
we slip into tliem ? It ’s late ; probably the owners 
are n’t coming.” 

“ It is n’t allowed, but nobody ’s looking, and these 
books are heavy.” 

May made a dash without further parley, and 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


183 


settled herself noisely in an expensive seat. Merle 
followed, feeling uneasy, greatly doubting the wis- 
dom of the plan, and regretting that she had con- 
sented to it. 

“ Don’t stare round ; act as if you ’d been here 
dozens of times and there was nothing new to see,” 
she whispered. “ There, he ’s beginning. If you 
don’t want to read the notes, close your eyes ; that ’s 
in form, and very musical.” 

“ Goodness ! is that little spurt all that ! ” ex- 
claimed May, running her finger down the pro- 
gramme, as the conductor turned and bowed. 

“ No, it ’s only ‘ A,’ the first of the four move- 
ments. They ’ll open the doors now and let the tardy 
ones in. Do you see any one aiming for these 
seats ? ” 

“ There ’s a woman — no, she turned back. This 
is a lark after all, isn’t it.? Wasn’t it a good 
scheme of mine taking these seats.?” 

“Whew! just smell that vulgar odor!” sniffed 
Merle, as a whiff of overpowering peppermint swept 
across her critical nose. 

“ Don’t keep your antennae forever sniffing the 
air ! ” snapped May, as she choked and grew purple 
in her effort to swallow a contraband peppermint. 

“ I can’t believe my senses that it ’s you. May 
Norton ! ” said Merle with a withering glance. “ It 
only shows how much you ’re in need of just this 


184 


MERLE AND MAY 


drill. You have n’t outgrown the circus and peanut 
stage yet! Just watch that distinguished-looking 
young woman in front. See how she carries herself 
— so self-possessed — a blue-blood every inch.” 

“ There ’s red in her blood somewhere, if her nose 
is any indication,” retorted May ; “ it ’s the only 
saving grace about her, otherwise she ’s cold enough 
to be Boston, the Atlantic Monthly, and the Tran- 
script all pressed into one 1 ” 

“ You don’t know refinement when you see it. 
You can go round with your ribbons thrown at your 
hair,' and your nails like an eagle’s talons if you 
like , — 1 shall cultivate the aesthetic 1 ” 

“ Don’t croak any longer — there ’s a dear frog, — 
but tell me what that swallow-tailed conductor has 
gone out for. Probably to drink — I ’ve heard that 
men are depraved enough to do it between the 
acts 1 ” 

“ He ’s gone out to escort the soloist in. See the 
excitement 1 Every one ’s wild to see her 1 We never 
did anything wiser, IMay, than to come to this I ” 

The soloist stepped into view amidst a thunder of 
applause, — a pale pink apparition, with her gauzy 
skirt elaborately embroidered in chenille. 

“ My gracious me ! ” hissed IMay in a voluble whis- 
per, rising in her seat for a clearer view. ‘‘ Just look 
at her skirt. Merle, it rivals the frieze of the 
Parthenon I ” 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


185 


“ Sit down ! every one ’s looking at us ! ” scolded 
Merle in an undertone, as heads turned and threaten- 
ing looks were directed at them. 

“ Sit dowriy I said ! ” 

I am sitting^. ” 

‘‘ Then take your foot out from under you! ” 

But May was past control. Some odd streak had 
struck her. The music was too unintelligible even 
to follow on her programme, and the facial contor- 
tions of the vocalist, together with the flight of the 
conductor’s coat-tails in his excited periods, threw 
her into a spasm of hysterical laughter. The 
more Merle glowered, the more May shook. A 
word of reproof from a white-haired lady in front 
sobered her for a period, and then — something 
happened. 

“ There ’s a sort of an intermission now, and the 
musicians go out,” explained Merle. “ When they 

come back, they ’ll finish ” 

“ Me ! if you stay a moment longer.” 

“ The last must be the best. May, for Melba 
sings again; and just see the people pouring in! Be 
patient, and I ’ll help you translate your French.” 
That was the last of the girls’ conversation, for 
suddenly an usher appeared at the end of the row 
of seats, and stood knitting his brows as he com- 
pared the tickets in his hand with the number of the 


186 


MERLE AND MAY 


aisle. In a moment he leaned over and questioned 
the girls. 

“ It ’s come ! act as if nothing had happened ! ” 
Merle had time to whisper, as the usher beckoned the 
rightful claimants to the seats. “ Don’t look at 
them — keep jour eyes front — that ’s the rule — it 
said so in the Ladies^ Home Journals 

Merle rose with great dignity, which her height- 
ened color belied, and May shouldered her bag of 
books and rose too. But in leaning over to fold 
back the seat, a variegated paper bag, caught up 
with her books, slipped, lost its balance, and, hor- 
rors upon horrors ! down went the vulgar pepper- 
mints, red and white, and scattered on the floor. 

]\Iay had sufficient presence of mind to leave them 
alone (which was surprising), and as she crunched 
her way out, even had the saving grace to blush; 
while Merle, with boiling cheeks and prickly heat 
running up and down her spine, ignored one or two 
titters, and, squeezing past the other occupants of 
the row, made for the aisle. 

Alas! alas! just as she reached it a detaining hand 
was held out — a masculine hand issuing from a black 
sleeve, the sleeve belonging to a frock coat, the coat 
belonging to a young gentleman, the young gentle- 
man no other than — Bob ! and beside him his most 
elegant college friend, Frank Dean! 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


187 


I did n’t realize who had the seats ; it must have 
been tiresome standing, I ’m so glad you took them, 
— go back, — I insist ! ” said Bob, in a low but im- 
perative tone. 

“ Don’t persecute me,” pleaded Merle, with a 
wavering glance. 

“ The persecution will be mine if you leave. Do 
please me, once ! ” in a whisper. 

The conductor raised his baton, the usher gestured 
for quiet, and Bob blocked the w^ay. There was 
nothing to do but turn back. May crunched again 
over her peppermints to her seat, and dropped into 
it with a sigh, half of relief and half of 
discomfiture. 

The knowledge that Bob’s and his friend’s eyes 
were not on the musicians was not especially cooling 
to one’s cheeks ; and the two pairs of long, black- 
trousered legs that shifted restlessly while standing, 
made Merle’s purloined seat sharp with discomfort. 
What Melba sang or the orchestra played she never 
knew, the prospect of the homeward trip under the 
escort of those two defrauded males being sufficient 
entertainment — of a sort! 

Nevertheless, Merle recovered some of her dignity 
and tact during the last number, and wisely decided 
to laugh the thing off as a joke. She succeeded far 
beyond her hopes, for Bob beamed at her 


188 


MERLE AND MAY 


graciousness, and Frank was visibly affected by her 
charms. 

“ Let ’s have an ice at Huyler’s,” suggested Bob, 
with the air of a man well schooled in feminine 
weaknesses. 

May embraced the offer without reservation and 
recovered her spirits on the spot, and even Merle 
welcomed the prospect of something cooling. In- 
deed, when she found herself at that fashionable 
Mecca, surrounded by Boston’s elitCy with the Sym- 
phony programme sticking innocently out from her 
pocket, and with a rival escort on the watch to do 
her slightest bidding. Merle felt that she certainly 
was justified in her knowledge of the fitting. 

“ Oh goody ! here comes Miss Prince. Don’t tell 
about our scrape; act as if the Symphonies were a 
regular thing,” whispered Merle in May’s ear. 

“ Well, well! do you brave such weather.? ” queried 
the stylish new-comer as she greeted the girls. 

“ It gets tiresome, now the season ’s so late,” 
drawled May, “ but Merle thought we ought not to 
miss Melba.” 

“ Was n’t she ravishing.? ” 

“ Such a skir — voice I never expect to hear 
again I ” gushed May with an ecstatic stare at Iluy- 
ler’s ceihng. 


A SYMPHONY RUSH SEAT 


189 


“ And such a programme besides ! Which did you 
enjoy most? ” 

The questioner looked at Merle, but recalling the 
ammunition of names she had paced the room mem- 
orizing, May suddenly decided to embrace so oppor- 
tune a chance and air her knowledge. 

“ That Batoven Con shirto, oh ! was n’t it 
sublime ! ” 

“ The which? ” 

“ The Ba ” — but here Miss Prince’s attention was 
fortunately diverted in reaching for her soda, and 
Merle had time to tread on May’s toes, and to whis- 
per, ‘‘ Don’t say any more ! You did the names fine ; 
but that was n’t played to-day — you must have seen 
it in the programme at the back of the book — next 
week’s announcement.” 

“ It don’t agree with me putting on airs ; I ’d get 
along better if you ’d let me be myself ” ; which May 
at once proceeded to be by enjoying her soda with 
unfashionable relish. 

Merle talked condescendingly with the heretofore 
much-envied regular Symphony attendant, observ- 
ing with a twinge of satisfaction that Miss Prince 
was without escort, and accepted with quite a lan- 
guishing air the attentions of her handsome Bob and 
his distinguished companion. 


190 


MERLE AND MAY 


‘‘Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself!” ob- 
served May as the door closed and the girls threw 
off their disguise and faced each other. “ For my- 
self — don’t ever say ‘ Symphony ’ to me again ! ” 

“ Don’t worry, you young Hottentot ! Grow up 
a heathen if you like. As for me, I shall cultivate 
the aesthetic, as I said, and begin by going every 
week when I can afford a quarter.” 


CHAPTER XI 

FLAPJACKS 

« Try again, there ’s a good boy, then sister ’ll 
say the piece.” 

Roy sat in a heap on the floor, his baby face comi- 
cally absorbed and earnest as he struggled to accom- 
plish his first lesson in self-help, — an accomplishment, 
by the way, that many babies take pride in, if moth- 
ers only knew. 

Suddenly the mysterious relationship between but- 
tons and buttonholes was solved, and Roy sent his 
little boots flying across the room with a shout of 
victory, and kicked his feet free of their stockings. 

“ You ’re a pupil to do your teacher proud,” said 
May smiling. “ Back up, and I ’ll say the piece 
while I unbutton you : 

“ ‘ Nebuchadnezzar, King of the Jews, 

Takes off his stockings and puts on his shoes ! 

Now you say it.” 

“ Necker — necker, ting of the tews. 

Take off his tockey — and put his tooey on! 

191 


99 


192 


MERLE AND MAY 


A burst of laughter greeted Roy’s rendering, and 
jMerle, who had just come in, dropped her basket and 
caught him up, saying, as she spread his sea-shell 
toes out to the hearth’s blaze : 

‘‘ You ’re a poet in embryo, sir, you have such 
a phenomenal ear for rhythmical cadence!” 

Though the meaning was vague, Roy dimpled with 
pleasure at the tone, and proceeded to make the most 
of this momentary admiration by demanding the in- 
stant return of Jack and Jill, who only the night 
before had flown away. 

“ It ’s needless to ask where you ’ve been,” said 
]\Irs. Norton, smiling from her primrose corner. 
‘‘ You have outstripped us all, dear, in your loyalty 
to the Bendonsas.” 

“I’ve had a perfect example for many months,” 
replied Merle with a loving smile, a smile that was 
fast softening the proud young face; “and besides 
I sometimes wonder if it ’s creditable to do what one 
loves ? I only took them some odds and ends, — it ’s 
so hard to provide economically for two,” observed 
the experienced housewife, — “ and the pound of pre- 
mium tea — father won ’t drink anything short of his 
cherished oolong, — and the doughnuts you fried for 
them. Roy’s shoes just fitted, and May’s dress will 
help out the two older girls.” 

“ I often think there was a sort of providence in 


FLAPJACKS 


193 


your Christmas box and disappointment after all; for 
we should never have found this family without those 
two things, and a more satisfactory one to help I 
can’t imagine. They are willing and anxious to 
work, too modest for public charity, and yet grateful 
for every kindness we have shown them. Does Mr. 
Bendonsa’s strength hold out, now he ’s back to 
work .P” 

“ He ’s doing nicely, but of course being so long 
in the hospital made things get behind. I can un- 
derstand that perfectly. If May and I had n’t held 
that sale and stocked their pantry, and somebody 
had n’t paid their rent this month, goodness knows 
where they would have been.” 

‘‘ Paid their rent ! Why I did n’t know any one 
knew of them but us.” 

“ And our next-door neighbor.” 

“ Bob ? Well, the dear boy ; is n’t that like him, 
and after giving a ton of coal too ! ” 

“He didn’t tell; he’s far too modest for that; 
but it leaked out, and I know it for sure. I ’ll help 
you with that cadenza. May, if you like, before I 
go up.” 

The secret about the music had long ago leaked 
out, for Merle’s progress was extraordinary, and in 
a few months she had far outstripped May. She 
loved it, longed for it, and spent her happiest hours. 


13 


191 ^ 


MERLE AND MAY 


outside her scribbling, in its study. J\Irs. Norton, 
with a mother’s eye, saw a possible use that this 
ability could be put to in later years, and encour- 
aged Merle to confide in her father, and to continue 
her lessons openly. 

Since then she had afforded a better teacher by 
making retrenchments in the soda and confectionery 
line, and had created a happy little world of her own, 
in which she worked and dreamed. 

Mrs. Norton listened to her dexterous descent of 
the rapid cadenza, light, graceful, and perfectly 
interpreted, and then to May’s broken and noisy one, 
which bore no relation whatever to the piece of which 
it formed a part. 

‘‘ May is no musical genius ; I can see that even 
if I do look through a mother’s eyes,” mused Mrs. 
Norton. There’s little to her just at present, out- 
side of arms and legs and a kind heart, but I shall 
not despair, for some chicks hatch late and outstrip 
all the firstlings.” Her work dropped into her lap, 
and she gazed absently at the pots of pretty pink 
primroses that filled her corner. Evidently this dis- 
paraging comparison of her chick had brought May’s 
‘‘ model ” to her mind, for she rocked rapidly back 
and forth, and shook her head, saying: 

“ It ’s the last hard bridge I have to cross with 
Merle, and if I win the race I shall be satisfied with 


FLAPJACKS 


195 


my winter’s work. I ’ll begin to-night, for I ’m in 
the mood, and May reads to the blind boy.” 

“ Come down when you get through with your 
father and keep me company, dear,” she called up 
the stairs, “ unless you have to study. May goes 
out, you know.” 

I ’m all through except a theorem or two ; after 
that I ’m at your service.” 

‘ Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone? 

Oh where, oh where has he gone? 

With his tail cut short, and his ears cut long — 

Oh where, oh where has he gone? ’ 

sang May in burlesque grand opera style when she 
was ready to start. 

“ No doggie.^ well, he never did take kindly to my 
vocal accomplishments. Pickles Norton! where are 
you ! ” 

The hall door creaked and Pickles wriggled himself 
through, looking very sleepy, very guilty, but humble 
enough to beg a thousand pardons. 

“ Aha ! you wretch ! come hither I Asleep in Roy’s 
carriage, in his white fur robe I’ll warrant! Such 
a prig as you ’re getting to be, you yellow mongrel ! 
Shake yourself awake, and come guard your mistress, 
for she ’s without escort to-night.” 

‘‘ Don’t stay late, dear, if you ’re coming home 


196 


MERLE AND MAY 


alone. It isn’t far, or I shouldn’t let you go with- 
out one of the boys.” 

“ Don’t worry, Pfckles could chew up any 
ordinary man, and I ’m good for two myself. Good- 
night.” 

“ There is n’t the slightest need of your doing 
those button-holes in Roy’s apron. Merle, but if you 
will persist, turn the chair round so the light won’t 
hurt your eyes,” urged Mrs. Norton, as. May off 
and Roy asleep, she turned her attention to her guest 
for the evening. 

“ I ’ve been thinking and thinking of what you 
said about Bob paying that rent. I fancy it is n’t 
a usual way for college boys to use their allowance. 
Whatever faults the Captain may have, there ’s one 
thing must be placed to his credit ; he does n’t make 
a sissy of his son by nipping him in money matters. 
He must be liberal.” 

“ He is, I know ; and I think Bob appreciates it, 
and is learning to overlook some of his father’s indif- 
ference in consideration of it. He speaks more 
pleasantly of him of late, I think.” 

“ Then you ’ve been together, — I mean you and 
Bob. I fancied you had n’t seen much of each 
other for a spell.” 

“ He ’s busy at college and I ’m busy at school ; 
but we meet all the same, sometimes on the way to 


FLAPJACKS 


197 


school, sometimes at the Symphonies, or occasionally 
he runs in here, if May invites him.” 

“ You never invite him.^ ” 

Mercy, no ! all the king’s horses and all the 
king’s men could n’t drag me to ask him into my 
shabby little room ; and you know I ’ve always said I 
drew the line at using your parlor.” 

Still he ’s been very kind to you ; and I really 
think it ’s no more than fair you should return what 
courtesy you can.” 

“No more than fair! — it’s perfectly heathenish 
that I don’t. If he was n’t as kind and generous as 
he is, he would n’t waste a thought on me, for there 
are plenty of doors open to him if mine is n’t.” 

“ I believe in young people mingling — I never at- 
tempt to improve on nature, — and home is by far the 
best place to meet. You deprive yourself of a great 
deal of harmless pleasure, and do your friends an in- 
justice besides, in shutting yourself up.” 

“ It ’s a great deprivation, I assure you, for I 
love friends; and if I had a pretty little parlor, no- 
body knows how I ’d enjoy it. But when it comes to 
inviting them into a barn, there ’s no pleasure in it.” 
“ Your sitting-room is n’t a barn ; and if it were 
perhaps your friends would enjoy youJ' 

“ It ’s horrid to be poor ; I never shall learn to 
accept it.” 


198 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ But there are those that have learned to accept 
it, INIerle. Many gifted men and women have led 
beautiful, unselfish lives despite their poverty, and in 
so doing have learned to count themselves superior 
to any trick of fortune. They were respected and 
beloved ; and people counted it a privilege to visit 
their plain little homes.’’ 

“ I ’m no celebrity, — there ’s nothing about me 
to soften the prickles in my horsehair lounge. Pov- 
erty reads poetically in books, but in life it ’s pure 
prose. Shall I make the same size buttonholes in 
the belt.? ” 

‘‘ Yes, just the same. If you would unbend even 
a little, dear, and once break the ice, having your 
friends drop in on you now and then would repay you 
for your work, and be an incentive to keep your 
little nest neat and homelike.” 

‘‘ Sometimes I do put my foot down and say I will 
swallow my pride ; but I ’d choke doing it, so where ’s 
the fun ? ” 

“ I ’m glad you call it by the right name, because 
it is pride. You have a great deal, and some of it 
isn’t a bad kind. The pride that keeps you from 
evading your car fare — as I hear some of the girls 
regularly do, — the pride that keeps you above dis- 
honorable work in school, that makes you indignant 
at vulgarity of any sort, that spurs you to excel in 


FLAPJACKS 


199 


whatever you undertake, — all that is pride worth the 
having — -if we are correct in calling it pride, and 
not honesty, integrity, a high ideal. But there is 
another side to your pride that does you harm. I 
think, dear, you sometimes show a tendency to give 
false impressions ; and I am sure that is one reason 
why it is so hard for you to show your friends your 
circumstances as they really are.” 

“ I did n’t know it was the mark of a lady to 
expose all her little private shifts to the public.” 

“ Surely not, but neither is it the mark of a lady to 
put on airs and to sail under false colors. Don’t you 
think you traffic a good deal in Della’s being in col- 
lege.^ yet I ’ll venture to say it has never passed your 
lips how she got there. Then I ’ve heard you refer 
to your distinguished relatives ; and in one way or 
another you pose for anything but a poor man’s 
daughter. You speak of your music lessons, but 
never of doing housework, and I ’ll warrant not a girl 
of your set dreams that you have ever seen a broom. 
You may enjoy doing this. Merle, but at the same 
time you ’re building a hedge around yourself that 
will be harder and harder to break through. Do you 
resent, dear, my saying this.^ I have no right, you 
know, and it ’s only my love for a very lovable girl, 
only the wish to be the influence in her life that 
will help her to make herself the strong, beautiful. 


200 


MERLE AND MAY 


purposeful woman I know she will be. Wipe away 
the tears, dear, and remember it takes all my cour- 
age to point out your faults ; but we could n’t see 
a charming little woman going wrong, — now, 
could we.? 

“ Now listen to my plans, for I don’t believe in 
finding fault without indicating a remedy. I pro- 
pose that you give a party — wait ! — not an elaborate 
affair, but something unique nevertheless, — I can 
trust you and May for that. Ask your immediate 
circle; have a jolly good time; and then, having 
broken through your ice of reserve, encourage all 
your friends to call.” 

“ You can’t have a party without refreshments, 
and the kitchen ” 

‘‘ The little hall-room that leads off the parlor 
would do nicely for a dining-room, now that Della ’s 
gone and you have all exchanged rooms. We ’ll put 
the table in there, and it is so small nobody will notice 
the lack of sideboard and silver.” 

“ But the parlor carpet is so shabby, and there ’s 
a hole in front of the stove where that live coal fell 
out.” 

‘‘ You can afford an inexpensive rug, and there 
are very pretty ones to be had.” 

That horsehair lounge is as old as the hills ! ” 

“ Its mistress is n’t, and I can think of several 


FLAPJACKS 


201 


individuals who will devote far more of their time and 
attention to her than to any lounge, shabby or 
otherwise.” 

“ I — I don’t think there are chairs enough to go 
round,” faltered Merle, almost to her wits’ end for 
objections. 

“We will draw on mine. Remember also that 
you have several very valuable pictures and your 
father’s wuldemess of books. If you must produce 
an impression, those would go farther to that end 
than the furnishings of two parlors. Now for the 
treat.” 

“ Oh, but I have n’t said I ’d give it ! ” 

“No; but ‘just supposing,’ as the children say. 
I think it could be made quite funny as well as original 
if you and May should dress yourselves as maids 
with pretty white caps and aprons ; and I would be 
cook; that would do away wuth getting new gowns. 
That maple syrup your uncle sent is simply un- 
surpassed, and I have great luck with pancakes — men 
are very susceptible to pancakes. Merle ! You might 
send out invitations to a ‘ Flapjack Party,’ and 
finish up with baked apples floating in cream ; — you 
would n’t need any other sweets, and it would be a 
relief from the regulation ice cream and cake.” 

“ It takes a great deal of experience to make a 
funny thing go off, and I should be so nervous ” 


202 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ May will help out there, and I, and your father, 
too.” 

“ Father ? Mercy ! — I would n’t dream of having 
him appear 1 He has n’t mingled in society for 
years ; and besides his best suit is shabby.” 

“ He works hard and has few pleasures ; I thought 
he would enjoy the fun,” said Mrs. Norton, coldly. 

“Oh, no; he wouldn’t enjoy the young people at 
all,” said Merle, hurriedly clipping her thread from 
the last buttonhole. There was an uncomfortable 
pause. “ I could n’t think of giving it any way,” 
she added, rising and trying to hide a deep blush with 
a nonchalant yawn. “ It would make a sight of work 
all round, and that would discount the fun.” 

“ As you like. Thanks ; that is a great help, and 
very nicely done. Good-night, dear.” 

Merle undressed, tumbled into bed, and lay there 
thinking, thinking, as she watched the moon rising 
in the clear heavens dotted with stars. Up through 
the elm tree’s tracery it went, glinted across a win- 
dow opposite, and sent a flood of light on her little 
blue bed, almost dazzling the thoughtful eyes of the 
thinker. First came a sharp spasm of regret for 
the manner in wFich she had received Mrs. Norton’s 
kind advice and suggestions ; — “And she ’s always so 
good to me ! ” she murmured, remorsefully. Then the 


FLAPJACKS 


203 


stanza that Miss Sylvia had written in her album 
began to say itself through and through her mind: 

“ Is she kind as she is fair? 

For beauty lives with kindness. 

Love doth to her eyes repair 
To help him of his blindness, 

And, being helped inhabits there.” 

“ Oh ! I ’m not kind,” she cried, — “ I ’m horrid, 
selfish, ungrateful, and worldly. Dear Lord, please 
help me not to be so proud! For I want to have 
friends and to be loved — oh, I do — I do ! ” 

Merle buried herself under the bed-clothes and 
sobbed out her prayer for help, — a broken, simple, 
tearful little prayer, rich in nothing but sincerity, 
which counts most with the Great Presence, I suspect. 

And there, under the clothes, she must have found 
her answer, for she emerged suddenly and smiled 
at the Man in the Moon, who seemed to smile back at 
her. ‘‘ It ’s a sort of a Launcelot Gobbo affair,” she 
mused. “ My conscience says ; ‘ Give the party ; 
break up this foolish pride.’ The fiend says : ‘ Not 
on your life! Suit yourself, lady, and seal yourself 
up like a shrimp blown into a bottle.’ Ah, well, my 
conscience counsels the better, and I ’ll fly the fiend ; 
which means that I ’ll trample this pride underfoot, 
beg Mrs. Norton’s pardon, give the party, pay a 


204 


MERLE AND MAY 


little of my social indebtedness ; and the dear old 
Philosopher shall see the fun, too ! ” 

Merle never wavered in her purpose, for in two 
weeks’ time a dozen or more curiously shaped envel- 
opes were posted after dark in the red letter-box 
at the corner. 

For days prior there had been chaos in the upper 
rooms, with much clipping, pasting and subscribing. 
Billows of crepe paper floated about, yards of baby 
ribbon dangled from the table, and pots of quince 
glue surprised the unwary. An enterprising firm 
had illustrated the efficacy of their magic raising 
powder by pictures of a very toothsome and realistic 
griddle-cake. These were cut out, prettily lined, and 
two tied together with the gay ribbon. Within the 
favored recipient read his or her invitation to this 
novel Flapjack Party. 

This initial step accomplished, the little suite un- 
derwent upheaval. The faded carpet was three 
times swept with tea leaves ; then Merle finished 
Bridget’s work by getting down on her proud knees 
and restoring some of its pristine brightness by a 
bath of ammonia and water. Windows were washed, 
curtains were rehung, almost defiant in their starchy 
whiteness; and the objectionable horsehair lounge 
was softened in aspect by a stray portiere, — the 
effect being voted very artistic and quite natural; 


FLAPJACKS 


205 


though May, having tested its stability in a sus- 
picious moment, and finding her fears justified when 
she landed on the floor with the portiere and two 
pillows on her head, wisely decided to eschew the 
joys of this toboggan slide on the night in 
ques'tion. 

The valued pictures were rehung to the best ad- 
vantage ; a new rug disguised the carpet’s mishap ; 
and the parlor stove, which was on the plan of an 
open grate, its front being made to slide back and 
display the growing coals within, was a seven days’ 
wonder. Such a phenomenal polish did Bridget give 
it that Pickles made three lightning revolutions 
round its mirrored surface, and failing to account 
for the brazen mongrel that dogged his every step, 
gave up the chase, and sat down to contemplate his 
personal charms in amazed quiet. 

Mrs. Norton was unfailing in her help, and dear, 
generous-hearted May offered every object in the 
home below from the parlor carpet to her square 
piano. 

“ Don’t, my dear, or you ’ll defeat my plans,” whis- 
pered Mrs. Norton as she waylaid May in the hall. 

I ’ve just been denouncing ‘ borrowed plumes,’ and 
I don’t want her little room made much different from 
what it will have to be when this night is over and her 
friends call.” 


206 


MERLE AND MAY 


“Do you fed satisfied, my dear?” queried Mrs. 
Norton, as she stood waiting, in cook’s cap and 
apron, on the eventful night. 

“Yes; thanks to you and May,” answered Merle, 
heartily, artistically festooning some running smilax 
over a mirror, and incidentally viewing the bewitching 
little bunch of lace and ribbon that sat jauntily on 
her soft waves of hair, and matched in coloring the 
microscopic apron with its dots of pockets which 
completed her costume as maid. 

“ Shall I put these on the mantel or the what-not? ” 
questioned the second maid, in blue, as she stood 
revolving on the new rug, with a vase of flowers in 
each hand. 

“ It ’s too warm there,” replied the hostess ; “ put 
them on the window. The sills are wide, and I shall 
leave the shades up, for I love to look into a roomful 
of happy people, and perhaps it will cheer some 
lonely passer-by.” 

Merle smiled affectionately at the second maid, 
smoothed the ravishing bow of her apron strings, 
looked critically at the angle of the lace cap, and 
whispered as she fastened a sprig of lily of the valley 
in her companion’s dress : 

“ You ’re a dear to get yourself up so carefully for 
my sake; and I advise Willard to look to his man- 
ners, for you ’re fast getting to be a beauty. May.” 


FLAPJACKS 


207 


“ Ditto, Miss Elliot. I suspect the soap I used 
has mirrored your face in mine, — if so, I die happy! 
happy ! Whose flowers shall you wear, Bob’s or 
Frank’s? ” 

Neither. When the bell rings, your post is at 
the door, remember ; mine is at the head of the stairs, 
and your mother will take care of them here, — 
mercy I there it goes ! ” 

May flew to her post, and bowed in the first group, 
whom Merle greeted at the head of the stairs, direct- 
ing the girls to her little blue room, the young men 
to her father’s. 

In a twinkling the house seemed swarming with 
young people; and Merle, who had not had a mo- 
ment’s qualm, and scarcely a moment’s respite from 
greetings, peered round the comer to see how Mrs. 
Norton and her father were faring within. 

The surprise she received was vivid, for her father, 
whom she expected to find ensconced behind his 
books, or huddled into the sofa corner, was actually 
in the middle of the room, bowing with old-time cour- 
tesy to the tripping maidens, and shaking cordially 
the young men’s hands. 

Her eyes wandered from his handsome white head 
down to the black velvet coat — a relic of better days 
— and rested on a little bud he had fastened, un- 
knovm to her, in its lapel. She stepped back hastily 


208 


MERLE AND MAY 


to her place saying to herself : “ Mrs. Norton was 
right, he does enjoy the fun, and he looks so like 
Longfellow I ’m proud of him.” 

They ’ve all come but Bob,” telegraphed May 
from her post. “I think I’ll put the door on the 
chain and come up ; he may be late getting over from 
college.” 

Bob was late, decidedly so, and quite contrite when 
IMerle left her guests and greeted him in the hall, say- 
ing as she hung up his ulster — she wished to be kind 
— she was sure there was something would not please 
him to-night: 

“Nobody missed you but May and me; so don’t 
apologize — your flowers tide you over this misde- 
meanor, sir.” 

“ Just be careful of that ulster, please; don’t jam 
the pockets.” 

Merle felt her first moment of discomfort when 
Bob stepped over her door-sill, for his six feet of 
height seemed to shrink her little room into a doll’s. 
But Bob was very popular with the feminine element, 
being handsome, and also tactful to the point of art. 
He understood pleasing, and did it seemingly with- 
out effort; and his entrance into any room meant a 
flutter of pleasant excitement. Merle perceived 
this, and took pleasure in the knowledge — took pleas- 
ure in another knowledge likewise. She was human 


FLAPJACKS 


209 


like the best of us, and was proud of her budding 
power. 

“ There ’s the queerest noise every time I go into 
the hall,” observed May, pausing on the threshold 
and addressing the assembled party, “ a sort of 
squeak — smothered like.” 

“ I might as well own up, then,” announced Bob, 
stepping forward, “ and at the same time account 
for my ill manners in being late. I cut through the 
alley to the Square, — it ’s a filthy place, but I wanted 
to save time, — and before I got out I heard the cries 
of some suffering animal. I struck a light, and 
there in a pail were two struggling, drowning kit- 
tens. It seemed wicked to torture them so, when 
five cents worth of chloroform would do the work 
painlessly, so I pocketed them. That ’s what you 
heard in my ulster. May.” 

Merle hurried out to the hall, after having repaid 
Bob for his humanity with her most approving 
smile and presently returned with two wet, cold balls 
of fur. 

‘‘ Let ’s name them and raise them,” suggested 
May . ‘‘You need a cat in your apartment. Merle; 
and Bob, your butler was borrowing one a short time 
ago.” 

“Well, let’s,” laughed Merle. “You name one, 
Bob, and I ’ll name the other.” 


14 


210 


MERLE AND MAY 

“All right,” said Bob ; “ I make over my rights in 
one of them to you with pleasure. Take your choice, 
Miss Elliot ; and we ’ll give you two minutes to find a 
name.” 

“You needn’t do that; I’ve thought of one al- 
ready. I shall name mine something edible, for the 
refreshments of this party are on my mind just 
now, and thought runs easily in that channel. How 
would ‘Waffles’ do.^” 

“ Good ! good ! ” shouted the group. “ Look to 
your laurels. Bob ; you ’ll never equal that.” 

“ Must it be something edible.? ” 

“ Of course. Nothing else will be accepted.” 

“ It ought to be feminine, too,” observed Frank, 
“ for that one winked her eye at me then.” 

“ I have it,” cried Bob : ‘ Sally Lunn.’ ” 

A shout of applause caused Sally Lunn to wink 
both eyes, which was taken to signify her acceptance 
of the name. The kittens were then taken to the 
kitchen and fed with warm milk, after which May 
wrapped them up in Merle’s best fur collarette, being 
pressed for time! 

This unexpected episode broke the ice, and not a 
slippery spot was found the whole evening long; for 
after Merle had exhausted her plans for amusement, 
and was momentarily aghast to find how soon she 
would be forced to play her refreshment card, her 


FLAPJACKS 


211 


father astonished her by coming into the room with 
a deep bowl of water and a small battery. With the 
aid of several interested young men he soon charged 
the water, tossed some new dimes and pennies to the 
bottom, and invited the company to help themselves ! 

The young ladies rolled up their sleeves, the young 
men tore off their cuffs, and then there were such 
comically abortive dives into the prickly water and 
such merry shouts of laughter as warmed the cockles 
of Merle’s heart and made the Philosopher beam. 

It was the event of the evening, and came precious 
near to consuming more than its share of time. As 
it was it took all Mrs. Norton’s diplomacy to cool 
the enthusiasm, turn down the lights, and prevail 
on the group to watch the glowing grate, telling 
stories if need be, that they might be in readiness to 
fill the dining-room the moment the cook gave the 
signal. 

Chairs were drawn into a circle, and the young 
people prepared to draw lots for the story-teller, 
w^hen a mossy substance settled over the glowing 
coals of the open grate, and in a twinkling leaped up 
into purple, pink, and lemon flames. 

“Oh! oh! isn’t it beautiful, girls! girls!” 

More lights, green, amber^ and orange, shot up in 
tongues of astonishing beauty. Where did it come 
from.^ Who was the necromancer.'^ 


212 


MERLE AND MAY 


INIerle’s 03^05 followed an outstretched hand up a 
black velvet sleeve, up, up to the face of her white- 
haired Philosopher, and there rested. She saw no 
more of the fire’s beauty, saw only the animated face 
in its frame of white, thought of her wrestle with con- 
science and her little prayer for help, and breathed 
another — there in the crowded room — a little prayer 
of thankfulness for its consummation. Her lips 
trembled, and her eyes filled unchecked, feeling 
secure in the room’s gloom and the fascination of the 
kaleidoscopic flames. 

But another pair of eyes were neglecting the 
chemist’s work, a dark-brown pair, with infinite 
promises in their soulful depths. They rested on a 
slight girlish figure in a white cap and apron, on a 
pair of gray eyes filled with tears, and on pretty 
lips that trembled; and such wonderful divination 
did these brown eyes have that they turned from the 
pretty tableau and glanced at the handsome white 
face silhouetted by the fire’s glow. They understood 
— those brown eyes. 

Such a tight fit as that dining-room was ! but no 
sideboard nor silver was noticed as lacking, for the 
golden-brown flapjacks, the very acme of art, dis- 
armed the most critical ; while the sight of the Shaw 
girl cutting a pie-shaped wedge out of a pile four 
flapjacks high, with sleeves rolled back on very thin 


FLAPJACKS 


213 


arms (as Merle observed), caused the young hostess 
to think favorably ever after of “ that Shaw girl.” 
The next course, of baked apples flecked with am- 
ber jelly, rolled in chipped nuts, and swimming in 
saucers of rich cream, produced a lull in conversation 
that surely gave “ proof of the pudding.” 

“ It ’s no use, I can’t talk, — somebody do it for 
me,” remarked Miss Prince, accepting her third apple 
without the slightest pretence of hesitation. “ And 
this cake — I should think the gods made it ! ” 

“No god,” laughed Merle. A week ago she 
would not have acknowledged it, but she did to-night, 
though she blushed prettily under her jaunty cap as, 
looking up, she observed a gentleman opposite eating 
it with such sudden reverence that her glance re- 
turned to her plate again. 

“ It ’s the event of the season ! ” Merle overheard 
one of the girls remark in the dressing-room. “ I 
never had such fun in my life. What a distin- 
guished-looking man her father is.” 

“ Did you notice that Copley over the mantel ? and 
those roses on the window.^ One vase was from Bob, 
the other from his friend Frank Dean — that light- 
haired fellow with the watch fob.” 

“ It was n’t a bit fashionable, and I thought flap- 
jacks would be no end vulgar, but they were n’t. It ’s 
such a relief, after all, to unbend, and not fall over 


214 


MERLE AND MAY 


maids and butlers, and be in terror lest you ’re not 
doing things properly.” 

“ What a cliarming hostess Merle made ! She’s 
simply divine when she unbends ; I could fall in love 
with her myself.” 

‘‘ And she treats Bob so courteously. I saw her 
when he brought her a glass of water in the hall, and 
she was so sweet in thanking him ; yet every one 
knows she could walk on him if she liked, and he ’d be 
more than gratified at the distinction.” 

“ That Frank Dean, they say, the one that gave 
her that second bunch of flowers, was with her at the 
Symphony last week. I thought Bob and he were a 
little cool to-night.” 

“ They need n’t either of them w’orry. Merle 
is n’t the style to engage herself young. She has so 
much character, she ’ll want to have a career first.” 
Most any of us would be glad to relieve her if 
she finds two a burden.” 

Merle crept back to her post, fortunately having 
heard only the first of this chatter, for she was too 
honorable to go on eavesdropping, and look up her 
proper position, for her guests were going. Now 
and then she took account of stock round the banister 
railing, and nearly fell off her perch in beholding her 
father, .standing wdth a paper fool’s-cap on his 
white head, and with a bright, merry light in his 


FLAPJACKS 


215 


tired eyes, as he joked with a pink-cheeked witch of a 
girl, who threw back her head in unforced laughter. 

Merle’s balance received a second shock when the 
aristocratic Miss Prince shook his hand cordially, 
saying with a pretty grace : I ’ve always wanted to 

meet Longfellow, and I feel as if I had had my wish 
to-night.” 

By the time Merle took her third peep, she really 
succumbed and was forced to recover by sitting on 
the hall stand, for the girls were actually kept wait- 
ing in the lower hall for escort, while her father, sur- 
rounded by a bevy of interested young men, was 
explaining chemical and physical laws with the glib- 
ness of a true philosopher. 

By some mysterious manipulation of wires. Bob 
was the last to go. May had deserted her post as 
door-tender and considerately turned the light low. 
Merle, intoxicated with her night’s success, and with 
various emotions in conflict, descended to bow out 
this her last guest. 

“ Good-night,” said she, with a formal hand-shake, 
and in a tone as distant as the poles. Good-night. 

I should be pleased to have you call — and — and 

I ’m glad if you ’ve had a pleasant evening.” 

Bob threw up his hat in a burst of laughter, then 
sobered suddenly, and said: 

‘‘ Why this distant tone, neighbor ? ” 


216 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I did n’t mean — my ! how dim it’s grown — turn 
up the gas so you can see. Mrs. Norton says the 
pipes must be frozen, the light goes up and 
down so.” 

“ I can see perfectly all I want, thanks, — and the 
only frozen thing round is me.” 

“I didn’t mean,” faltered Merle with a finger 

in each of her dimity pockets, I did n’t mean ” 

But suddenly the little pockets were relieved of 
their burden, and her hands held captive in a strong 
clasp, as Bob whispered with a mixture of fun and 
earnestness : 

“ It won’t do a bit of good, you paragon of art- 
lessness ; the debt is growing — mark my word — and 
you ’ve held off so long in allowing me to call that I 
can’t even reduce the rate of interest ! ” 


CHAPTER Xn 


PEANKS 

“ Shall I go through the middle arch? ” 

“ As you like, Captain.” 

‘‘ What a perfectly beatific frame of mind you ’re 
in. Canoeing agrees with you, Willard.” 

“Right you are, my lady. I never feel so patri- 
otic, so proud of my country’s flag, as when I ’m pil- 
lowed luxuriously, floating noiselessly along, with 
nothing more burdensome to do than watch a charm- 
ing Captain at the helm. Would n’t our English 
cousins with their prudent mammas, and the French 
girls with their inevitable chaperons, fall in a faint 
at the sight of us? ” 

“Of course girls have more freedom in this 
country, and so long as they don’t turn it into li- 
cense no one complains. But really, Willard, I was 
astonished myself that mother should agree to this 
canoeing, for she hates water like a cat, and has al- 
ways had the fidgets about my skating. Mothers 
have to learn to be very unselfish for their children, 


217 


218 


MERLE AND MAY 


don’t they? for while I ’m intoxicated with the beauty 
here, she, poor dear! is shaking in her boots every 
time the bell rings, or a quick step sounds on the 
porch.” 

‘‘ I think she felt it would interfere with others’ 
pleasures as well as yours, for she knows I ’ve saved 
all winter to get the canoe.” 

“ She made very few restrictions and I shall obey 
them to the letter ; I can do that much,” said May 
soberly. “ I ’m not to roll up my sleeves as if I 
were ready to wash out a tub of clothes ; I can’t 
lounge among the pillows, or paddle with any young 
man that smokes. She asked me to be prudent, too, 
— not rush into danger, she means. That is n’t so 
easy, but I shall try. Don’t I do well for a 
beginner? ” 

‘‘ Great. Put your hand a trifle lower down — 
you ’re getting the wrist movement to perfection. 
Don’t use quite so much force, — there, that ’s better.” 
‘‘ It ’s just impossible to realize all the fun in 
store for us this summer with both you boys having 
canoes. Just think of the larks we’ll have, with 
floats, moonlight, and picnics ! ” 

May straightened her shoulders and drew in a 
deep breath of the glorious spring air. It was early 
in the season, but the day was warm and redolent of 
budding life. The blue sky flecked with billows of 


PRANKS 


219 


fleecy clouds went sailing along in the river’s clear 
reflection ; along the water’s edge the tinted willows 
mirrored a hint of yellow green ; button-bushes, alder 
and hazel shrubs hugged one another amicably, 
promising a close covert for nesting birds, and at 
the present several pairs were prospecting, doubtless 
with an eye to housekeeping. 

This was in those golden days before graphophones 
and steam tugs with their churning paddles drowned 
the redwing’s merry kon-ker-ri and the song spar- 
row’s wooing; before a rough and inappreciative rab- 
ble broke the quiet of the river’s sylvan beauty ; 
before a lover’s kiss was held in bounty with a com- 
missioner’s record on it. 

Keenly alive to the beauty about her. May scanned 
the sky, the quickening shores, the rippling waters 
that stretched in dazzling beauty before her. Each 
quiet dip of her little paddle cut its crystal clearness 
into diamonds of many facets, dimpling the waters 
into sparkling and playful eddies. Something of its 
charm subdued her, for her face softened and she 
recited dreamily, — 

O little buds, break not so fasti 
The spring ’s but new. 

The skies will yet be brighter blue 
And sunny too. 


220 


MERLE AND MAY 


I would you might thus sweetly last 
Till this glad season ’s overpast, 

Nor hasten through. 

It is so exquisite to feel 
The light, warm sun; 

To merely know tlie winter done 
And life begun; 

And to my heart no blooms appeal 
For tenderness so deep and real 
As any one 

Of these first April buds, that hold 
The hint of spring’s 
Rare perfectness that May- time brings. 

Oh, linger, linger, nor unfold 

Too swiftly through the mellow mould. 

Sweet growing things ! 

And errant birds, and honey bees. 

Seek not to wile ; 

And sun, let not your warmest smile 
Quite yet beguile 

The young peach bows and apple trees 
To trust their beauty to the breeze; 

Wait yet awhile ! ’ 

“ Is n’t that a dear thing.? I found it somewhere, 
and could n’t leave it alone.” 


PRANKS 


221 


May sent her little shallop through the waters, and 
continued, awakening from her Nature-worship, — 
“ Has Bob launched his ? ” 

‘‘ He floated her yesterday, I believe. He ’s prob- 
ably somewhere on the river now.” 

“What color 

“ Birch-bark. Gee whiskers ! is n’t she a beaut.” 

“ Merle loves birch-bark ; she hates red,” laughed 
May, peering over the side of her little craft. 

“ I did n’t buy this to suit her. Red is very 
artistic, I think, darting in and out among the 
green.” 

“When we get the scarlet cushions done, and float 
our Harvard flag, and mother has finished my red 
shirt-waist, won’t we scare the turtles? What color 
is Bob’s.” 

“ He has a strip of velour carpet about two inches 
thick, reaches from one end to t’ other — moss-green ; 
and all the cushions match, — silk, I believe.” 

“ Oh, Merle dotes on moss-green.” 

“ I inferred as much. I tell you Bob’s making hay 
while the sun shines.” 

“ I did n’t think the sun would shine for him this 
week, with Merle off to her sister at college. It was 
such a sacrifice for her to go, dear girl, — so many 
things happened in a bunch ; but she went, and 


MERLE AND MAY 


ogo 

perhaps the change will do her good. Mother 
does n’t think she ’s looking well, I know.” 

“ Several things happened to Bob in a bunch last 
week.” 

“ Go back and sit down on your cushion, Pickles ! 
You can’t have that bullfrog! Make him sit down, 
Willard. What do you mean about Bob ? ” 

“ I was n’t told not to tell, though Bob kept it 
quiet himself. He was twenty-one last week.” 

“ Is that all.'’ I was seventeen a short time ago, 
but I did n’t observe any meatoric fall.” 

“ Ah, but don’t you know what it meant for Bob ? 
It meant he was of age and had come into his mother’s 
property.” 

“No! don’t say it — you take all the life out of 
me. Is it much.? ” 

“ A few paltry thousands. I don’t really know 
how much; only I remember once when Bob was hav- 
ing it cool with the Captain, he said the time was n’t 
far distant when he ’d be independent. Why don’t 
you rejoice.? ” 

“Rejoice! Don’t you see he can marry now, and 
I had banked on his being kept under the Captain’s 
heel for years to come. I didn’t want to lose 
Mer — ” Becoming aware of her indiscretion. May 
stopped short. 

“Well, a girl could look farther and do worse,” 


PRANKS 


223 


remarked Willard, drily. “ I expected there ’d be 
a blow-out at his coming of age, and he ’d treat the 
crowd in style ; but he went off somewhere.” 

“ What night was it.<^ ” 

“ Wednesday.” 

“ He and Merle went to the opera. She loves 
music you know, and had never been. I can see her 
now ; she was wild with joy, and did n’t get over it for 
days after. Oh, he ’ll woo and win her with his music, 
for he plays divinely, and she just sits with her soul 
in her eyes and listens.” 

“ It seemed to me that Bob had made some sage 
resolve, and determined the day should be a new leaf 
in his life; he seemed so much older and quieter, as 
if the responsibility had squared his shoulders, and he 
meant to do right.” 

“ Oh dear, we ’re a precocious lot,” sighed May ; 

we ’re no sooner out of swaddling clothes than we 
wear wedding rings.” 

“ Some are in such a rush they wear them before 
it ’s legal. Don’t ! Don’t ! Put in your paddle, and 
I ’ll be good.” 

“ Here ’s Grace married and gone. Merle tottering 
on the brink, and I feel fifty since I put my hair up.” 

‘‘ Charming metamorphosis, ma’am. I ’ve been 
watching that little curl wave. At what age shall 
you assume the matrimonial yoke?” 


224 > 


MERLE AND MAY 


Never ! ” 

‘‘ Ah, that’s the Idnd gets gobbled first. There 
never was an old maid that ‘ never ’ made. They ’re a 
misfit anyhow, — last year’s styles shelved. Don’t 
spoil that curl ! ” 

“ Behave yourself, or I ’ll singe every one off — 
what ails you to-day ? ” 

“ ‘ In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly 
turns to thoughts of love ’ ! ” 

“ In the spring take Adams’ Sarsaparilla for that 
tired feeling! It’s your liver, laddie; you look 
sallow.” 

“ A love potion might cure me ; try it and see.” 

“ I should bungle, and you ’d wake up and find 
yourself worshipping an ass’s head. Ask Blanche. 
She ’d take to it like a duck to water.” 

“ Ah, woe is me I Blanche won’t do. I must have 
yellow curls, blue eyes, pink cheeks, and a dimpled 
chin.” 

“ I ’m going to land and leave you to recover ; 
when you feel normal, whistle, and I ’ll return — 
if I have n’t in the meantime found a better 
escort.” 

“ Sweet turtle, don’t hide your pretty head. Come 
out — come out! no love-shaft of mine shall pierce 
your shell to-day. No answer! (She’s mad, 
Pickles.) 



IN THE SPRING 


w 



PRANKS 


225 


O we fell out, I know not why. 

And kissed again with tears; 

And blessings on the falling out 
That all the more endears.” 

She ’s smiling. (Now watch the metamorphosis, 
Pickles, while I do a sleight of hand.) Captain! I 
said Bob had plans — don’t think the canoe absorbs 
them all. What would you think of a month’s camp- 
ing out — steady! steady! you can’t jump like that in 
a canoe ; you ’ll have us all to the bottom. Pickles, 
sit down ! else you sha’n’t be my mascot.” 

“ Oh, Willard, are you tricking me.?’ ” 

“No trick, ma’am; gospel truth. There’s others 
besides your mother who don’t think Merle is looking 
well, I guess. However, it ’s a secret now, and only 
underground wires are laid. But Bob suggested it, 
said it would n’t cost much, — which means he ’d pay 
most of the bills, — spoke of a chaperon, wanted to 
know how many made a comfortable party, and said 
he preferred a kitchen and a servant to any Utopian 
division of work.” 

“I can’t imagine anything so perfectly lovely 
happening in this crooked world — why the mere 
thought of it will help me through these last weeks of 
school; and goodness knows I need help. A whole 
month in the woods, with nothing but fun! fun! fun! 

IS 


226 


MERLE AND MAY 


Pickles, come here till I squeeze you ! I believe I 
could forget in camping out some of the agonies 
I ’ve endured this term. I have n’t told you, Wil- 
lard, but I ’ve had suicidal tendencies of late, and this 
spring vacation came just in the nick of time to 
save two lives — mine and Miss Black’s — the chemis- 
try teacher.” 

Skirt the shore now, and hold on to the bushes 
while we exchange places,” said Willard, rising with 
due circumspection. “ I promised your mother I ’d 
never do it in the open. You ’ve paddled enough, my 
boy, so luxuriate among the cushions. Tuck your 
paddle under the carpet (I bought yours shorter than 
mine), and tell me about the beloved Miss Black; I 
think I ’ve heard of her before.” 

“ Well, to begin with, we commenced the term by 
cordially hating each other. I was cautioned not to 
get on the wrong side of her, and tried my best to 
be diplomatic for once. I might have succeeded, 
but one recess when the girls were standing round 
her desk, I came in unexpectedly, and I knew at 
once she had been saying something about me. When 
I went into the hall Miss George followed and said: 

“ ‘ Oh, Miss Norton, you ought to have heard what 
Miss Black said of you. Somebody intimated that 
you were pretty, and she replied: “All but her chin,” 
and stuck her own out to illustrate, — the viper ! “ It’s 


PRANKS 


227 


odd,” she continued, “ and original, and one in a 
class will do very well, but imagine having to face 
fifty ’ ! ” Now, I don’t pose for a beauty, but I 
never knew I had a Punch and Judy chin before; and 
— well — remarks are n’t pleasing, anyhow.” 

“ What creatures women are ! You ’d never catch 
a man teacher saying such Tommy-rot.” 

‘‘ I forgave her after a spell, and did fairly well 
in chemistry, for I liked the laboratory messes. 
Finally we had a lesson on chlorine, and bleached 
little pieces of colored calico. She told us to take 
them home, draw a design on cardboard, and paste 
them on. They were to be exhibited on Visitors’ 
Day to illustrate the bleaching properties of chlo- 
rine. Drawing is my one decent point, and I rather 
enjoyed the task, but I couldn’t think of any de- 
sign that would be appropriate. There ’s nothing 
very handsome about bleached rags, you know, and 
I was just giving up in despair when one rainy day I 
took the car home, and as I sat staring at the adver- 
tisements overhead, I noticed that one which we ’re so 
familiar with, — a great black whale with a white spot 
scrubbed on his side, and under it printed ‘ Soapine 
did it.’ ‘ Just the thing,’ says I. So I drew a jolly 
big whale, spouting like a dozen hose-pipes, and I 
pasted my rags so that the bleached ends met on 
his side, and wrote under it, ‘ Chlorine did it ! ’ It 


228 


MERLE AND MAY 


looked grand; Roy was afraid of it, and Merle said 
it was very original. I thought how proud mother ’d 
be if it should be exhibited, as I ’m such a dunce 
usually ; so I went to school early and laid it on the 
laboratory desk. I was n’t present when Miss Black 
came in, — I ’d gone up to the class-room, — but Miss 
George was, and supplied me with facts. 

“ She said Miss Black sat down to her desk smiling, 
and began going through the pile of designs. Some 
of them were lovely, — flowers made of pink and blue 
cloths that the chlorine had just tinted. Finally 
she came to my whale, and Miss George said no terms 
in Webster’s Unabridged would define the expression 
of her face. The nearest illustration she could give 
was to suppose that an offal cart had passed close by 
her unexpectedly; for she looked appealingly at the 
girls as if for salts, or an open window, or a tonic 
to bridge her over the trouble ; and then took the 
nippers, picked up the whale by the edge and lowered 
it into the trash-basket at arm’s length ! I never 
saw or heard of that poor, unappreciated whale again, 
as you may suppose, but I hauled down my flag of 
truce then and there, and. Miss Black is probably 
recuperating. For, oh! Willard, haven’t I made 
her dance the hornpipe! There’s no fear of my 
being left over in chemistry, she ’ll pass me if she 
has to cheat ! ” 


PRANKS 


229 


Doubtless she is recuperating this week. It ’s 
very short-sighted in a chemistry teacher to get on 
the wrong side of such a customer as you, May,” 
laughed Willard. 

“ The first dose I gave her was the day we made 
sulphuretted hydrogen. ‘ It ’s a neat little experi- 
ment, girls,’ she said, ‘ and I don’t want you to miss 
any of it, ( I looked out she did n’t) ; ‘ but the odor 
is — not pleasant, and you must be careful to keep 
your pipes under water, and not discharge it into 
the room. It illustrates nicely the absorption of 
noxious gas in water, and explains why we keep our 
traps filled in plumbing and add glycerine sometimes 
to prevent H 2 O evaporating.’ 

“ INIine generated fine, and as soon as I saw the 
water kind of quivering, I lifted out the tube quietly 
and took the pole and closed up the window, com- 
plaining of a draft. Goodness ! Willard, in a wink 
of time I ’d been glad to get out myself ! Did you 
ever smell it.^ That ’s what nothing in the dictionary 
could describe ! In a twinkle pandemonium was let 
loose. Sir Tom came kiting down to the basement, 
collared the janitor on the way, and they both flew 
into the room, slammed up the transom, yanked down 
every window, and Sir Tom glared at Miss Black, 
and said he thought he gave orders not to put five 
hundred people in purgatory again until the 


230 


MERLE AND MAY 


laboratory was supplied with a hooded flue! Neat 
little experiment, wasn’t it? I wonder if she con- 
nected it with the whale? 

“ I think Milton must have performed that ex- 
periment in his youth,” I\Iay added, reflectively, “ he 
seems so conversant with the properties of sulphur, 
and I understood Paradise Lost much better my- 
self afterward. Lines like, ‘ A fiery deluge, fed with 
ever-burning sulphur unconsumed,’ make the pic- 
ture so realistic when you can smell it too! — Why, 
here comes the birch-bark ! Ah there ! Bob ! ” 

“ Ah there, yourself ! ” 

“ You look lonely.” 

‘‘ Looks are deceiving.” 

“ Come, join us and hear May’§ latest school bul- 
letin,” said Willard. “ It will remind you of your 
lost youth, boy.” 

“ Come, join us and hear Merle’s latest bulletin, 
that will be nearer his heart,” laughed May, waving 
a fat letter tantalizingly. See, he hesitates.” 

“ Is she well? ” called Bob, poising his paddle. 

“ Very well, thanks ; and convenient to Amherst, — 
did you think of that? ” said May mischievously. 
‘‘ Don’t let us detain you, but if you happen round at 
lunch time we have a drum-stick to spare.” 

That ’s a bribe worth considering. I ’m prac- 
tising now. Au revoir; we ’ll meet again probably.” 


PRANKS 


231 


‘‘ Practising ! ” laughed May, as Bob’s canoe dis- 
appeared round the bend. “ And hunting up all the 
little lovers’ lanes to boot.” 

“ Go on with your Miss Black, and leave Bob to 
his business. Did you play your trump card with 
the sulphuretted hydrogen ” 

“ Bless your heart, that was only the beginning ! 
The next experiment I had a chance to strike home 
was the day we made oxygen and hydrogen and com- 
bined them. Miss Black was very much occupied 
with some of her favorites in the opposite corner of 
the room, admiring their new alpaca aprons, which 
she had encouraged the girls to have made so dainty 
and frail they looked like party rigs, so her absorp- 
tion left the coast clear for me. I made a double 
quantity, and when I brought the two gases together 
and ignited them — O ye gods ! such a report ! I 
thought I ’d lost every eye-winker ; and the girls 
screamed and dropped their test-tubes ; and Sir Tom 
came flying down again; and Miss Black just stood 
rooted to the platform. Finally she made for me, 
and T acted dazed and faint-like, and mumbled some- 
thing about mother did n’t approve of these danger- 
ous laboratory experiments.” 

Willard shook with sympathetic laughter, remem- 
bering some neat little experiments of like nature 
that had lightened the tedium of his own chemical 


232 


MERLE AND MAY 


course, while May wiped up her merry tears, 
saying : 

“ I ’m choked for a drink. I must have it before I 
tell you about the lobster, Willard, for that ’s the 
best of all.” 

“ I might paddle down to the bend and see if I 
can’t find the spring over the hill. This water is 
too brackish to drink. Forget your thirst, and start 
on the lobster.” 

“ Well, you see, the zoology or biology teacher, 
whatever you call her, was sick. It was too near the 
end of the term for the classes to miss a single lesson, 
so the task of substituting fell to Miss Black. I 
guess she didn’t know the nature of the beast, for 
she left the squids so long in alcohol that two of the 
girls in ‘ A ’ fainted. I heard Tommy telling her 
in the hall about them. ‘ The specimens are 
spoiled,’ says he. ‘ Send over to the fish market and 
get a dozen or so of lobsters — they ’re easy, and 
will do.’ 

When we filed into the laboratory, there they were, 
one for every two girls. Mine was a bouncer, big 
and sweet-smelling, and I laid my plans at once, for 
my lunch was a little short that day. I listened at- 
tentively to the lesson ; he ’s a crustacean, you 
know ; and I poked his ‘ swimmerctt ’ and his ‘ ter- 
minal paddles,’ and all along his sides where he 


PRANKS 


23S 


breathes ; and he has quite a nervous system, ganglia 
and all that, — and they do feel being boiled, Willard. 
Promise me you ’ll never eat one boiled alive.” 

“ Promise.” 

“ When Miss Black was drawing his tail on the 
blackboard, I sent out some interesting little notes, 
and the class tumbled, to a girl. She was still busy 
at the blackboard when we filed out and the next sec- 
tion filed in. She never turned. Miss George says, 
but opened the lesson by remarking: 

“ Doubtless the specimen you see before you, 
young ladies, is familiar to you all.” 

Then some one giggled and she turned, and oh! 
Great Caesar’s ghost I there was n’t a lobster in the 
room ! 

“ See if they were collected by mistake. Miss 
George, and placed in the pickle closet,” says she. 
No, they were not there. 

“ Miss George, ask the master to please step 
down.” Miss George says her face was livid, with 
green lines beside her nose. Well, Sir Tom knows 
a thing or two — bless his buttons ! He would n’t 
budge. 

Miss Black grew greener. Miss George says, and 
sent up the second time, but no Sir Tom appeared. 

‘‘ Very well,” said she, “ I can’t teach without 
specimens, so you may all file into the chemical 


234 


MERLE AND MAY 


laboratory, and make up any arrears you may have 
in that work.” 

“ Perhaps you would like to know where those lob- 
sters were.^ ” laughed May. “ Several were in the 
basement barrel, a couple on the stairs, a few in the 
dressing room, and one — fortunately for Miss Prince, 
Sir Tom was not on a foraging tour — behind the 
venerable Homer, in the Plall of Fame, as we call the 
general assembly room since Sir Tom closed its works 
of art to the herd. Only one found its way into the 
class-room. That was mine, Willard. Somehow it 
had found its way into my desk. The next hour was 
a study hour, and Miss Grieg, the history teacher, 
was in charge. 

“ Oh ! such a lark as I had with that lobster, Wil- 
lard! I cracked his claws by dropping the desk-cover 
on them, and Miss Grieg never tumbled, but asked 
for ‘less noise in the north corner, please!’ and 
all the girls had a bite and I had a good many. All 
was going nicely, I was just finishing the swimmerett 
parts, when I heard my name called, and I blinked up 
over the desk-cover. 

“ ‘ Miss Norton, may I trouble you to close your 
desk and pursue your studies in the open ? ’ I com- 
plied, but just as she looked back to her book, as I 
supposed, I blew her a kiss. She saw it, and I knew 
all was up with me then. 


PRANKS 


235 


“‘Miss Norton, are you studying?’ 

“ ‘ Yes, Miss Grieg.’ Was n’t I dissecting that 
beast? hadn’t I been in a brown — no red — study for 
the last twenty minutes ? ” choked May. “ But she 
suspected — wise woman ! — and said, ‘ Please bring me 
whatever you have of interest in your desk ! ’ 

“ O Willard ! never say die ! Only a few weeks 
ago we had a time with the histories. It came up 
about the massacre of St. Bartholomew. The Roman 
Catholic girls took umbrage, and our histories were 
changed. The new one had the objectionable part 
left out, and so the Protestants hated it, and refused 
to recite from it. We used to study out of Myer^ 
and left the other girls — the Catholics — to use the 
new histories. I had covered mine in black, in 
mourning for my beloved Swinton, and had drawn the 
map of Ireland on the cover in green chalk. I re- 
membered this and lifted it out over the lobster, and 
made for Miss Greig’s desk. I didn’t smile, my 
face was expressionless. Miss Prince said, but as I 
laid it under Miss Greig’s nose her glasses flew off, 
she sneezed twice and left the room, and I — I went 
back to my lobster ! O Willard ! I ’m not through 
yet. You see I did n’t feel sure whether Miss Black 
knew the source of her trouble, or not ; and as I had 
further plans I lingered in the hall waiting to see 


236 


MERLE AND MAY 


her go, and as I waited I composed this, — a parody 
I believe they call it: 

“ ‘ The school gong sounds the knell of parting day ; 

The jolly herd winds swiftly forth and free; 

Miss Black doth homeward wend her weary way. 

And leaves the coast quite clear, you see, for me.’ ” 

“ Is n’t that jolly.P Then I descended to the chemi- 
cal laboratory, drew the fiercest-looking lobster with 
red chalk on the blackboard, his legs posed as if he 
was swimming, and his eyes protruding, and waves 
under him marked H 2 O, and above it I wrote: 

“ ‘ Young ladies, doubtless the specimen you see 
before you is familiar to you all!’ and below — 

“ ‘ Lobsters 15 cts. per lb. Two lbs. for a 
quarter.’ 

“ Then I enclosed it and wrote ‘ Reserve ’ ; for the 
janitor erases all work not so safe-guarded. I 
brought Merle down behind the door, and she took 
one look, and just doubled up on the floor like a 
jack-knife. ‘O May!’ she cried, Mf Miss Black 
does n’t tumble to that whale now, she deserves to 
have some of the green boiled out of her ! ’ That ’s 
all. You see now what I mean by recuperating. We 
both needed a little rest.” 

May settled back, feeling content with her share 
of the afternoon’s entertainment ; while Willard, 
proud of this merry companion, patterned after his 


PRANKS 


237 


own heart, paddled swiftly along in quest of the 
much desired water to drink. 

“ There, I think this is the place,” observed the 
paddler, running his canoe in-shore. I don’t dare 
leave this canoe alone, it ’s too new to run the risk of 
losing it ; so you hold on to the bushes, please, and 
wait till I return.” 

May watched the retreating figure climb the hill 
and disappear over its brow, and then turned her 
glance to the wide expanse of river that stretched 
clear and beautiful before her. Now and then a lit- 
tle skiff darted silently along; birds winged across 
or dipped gracefully to its surface; and every sunny 
stump and mossy rock held its colony of little 
woodf oik. 

Something of the freedom of nature filled May’s 
every breath and gave birth to a new purpose, for the 
dream in her blue eyes suddenly sharpened and she 
turned quickly toward Pickles — Pickles, who with 
every yellow hair on end, with bulging eyes and 
snapping jaws, was making savage thrusts at a very 
patriarch of a turtle, who blinked his sleepy eyes un- 
moved, and doubtless observed with Emerson : “ Why 
so hot, my little man — why so hot ? ” 

There ’s a country somewheres. Pickles,” observed 
May, “ where they throw their infants into the water 
to teach them to swin. Mother says responsibility 


238 


MERLE AND MAY 


is the best of teachers, and if I should paddle down 
to the next bend and back, I ’d learn more in five min- 
utes alone than in a month with Willard.” 

Quick as thought May pushed off and went bob- 
bing gaily down-stream, her paddle cutting the wa- 
ter into little whirlpools, while Pickles sat erect in the 
stern with an expression of canine dignity comical 
to see. 

“ How well we go ! it ’s no effort at all ; just see how 
the bank glides by, Pickles.” Pickles observed, licked 
his snub nose, and wriggled joyfully. 

‘‘ Now we ’ll turn back and surprise Willard with 
our skill. He showed me how. You put your pad- 
dle in so, give it a twist, and around she goes ! ” 

But, however dextrous May’s twist, the little canoe 
glided merrily along with no slightest sign of turn- 
ing. Having tried again and again, she grew 
alarmed and looked back for signs of Willard. 

“ It ’s the current,” she said, looking down at the 
deep, gliding water. “ That ’s the reason we sweep 
along so. O dear, I wish I ’d been prudent and 
hugged the shore, for how ever shall I get back ! ” 
May wrung her hands in despair, watched the 
bank glide swiftly by with far different feelings from 
those of a moment ago, and then felt a sudden hope 
as a tall figure ran out on the land point, and Wil- 
lard’s halloo reached her. 


PRANKS 


239 


“ Get to the shore somehow ! ” screamed the 
frightened voice. “ Don’t turn the bend, on your 
lifei! Remember — the falk ! 

May barely caught the last word, for her canoe 
was hurried along not only by a swift current at 
this part of the river, but more rapidly still as it 
neared the falls that fell only a short run beyond 
the bend. 

The color died out of May’s face, and her hands 
fell nerveless in her lap, as, after a frantic struggle, 
the canoe swept round the bend and brought the ter- 
rifying roar of the falls to her ears. 

Willard, who had not learned to swim, tore up and 
down the bank, hatless, coatless, wringing his hands 
in misery, and calling desperately for help. May’s 
position was dangerous in the extreme, and momen- 
tarily growing more so. Nothing equals the agony 
of inaction, and Willard tasted it to the full in those 
few never-to-be-forgotten moments. 

Then a birch-bark canoe drifted idly on the scene, 
its occupant being apparently half-asleep. In a 
flash his repose was broken. 

“ Bob! For Heaven’s sake — May and the falls! ” 

Bob straightened up ; swift as a bird the canoe took 

wing, flew to the bank, and Willard sprang in. No 
word was spoken, but both sent their paddles clear in 

to the neck, and the birch-bark canoe shot like a 


240 


MERLE AND MAY 


meteor down-stream. On, on she sped, bent to the 
water’s edge, with every muscle swelling on the 
strong arms that manned her. 

“ She ’s over ! She ’s over ! ” gasped Willard as 
one agonized scream cut the silence and echoed from 
shore to shore. 

“ Keep up ! keep up ! ” cried Bob. “ We ’ll see her 
as soon as we make the bend, — I can hear Pickles 
barking. Be careful, the bottom is rocky here; 
keep her in the current ; if we strike you ’ll never 
know what happened.” 

Round the bend the canoe swept, and the paddlers 
scanned the river’s stretch for hope. 

“ She ’s safe ! She ’s stuck on a rock ! If the 
current don’t swamp her or wash her off, she’s safe 
if we can reach her. Now, for your life! Once 
more — again — steady — don’t shoot beyond ; the f alls 
are not fifty yards off.” 

Stroke after stroke shot the little lifeboat to 
May’s succor, shot her true and in time, for as Wil- 
lard reached out and caught the stranded canoe by 
the nose, the rising tide, swollen by the spring rains 
and freshets, washed her free, and would have sent 
her on to her destruction. With a spring Willard 
was in her, and his added weight held her safely for 
the moment. 

“ Don’t leave the current 1 ” shouted Bob. 


PRANKS 


241 


“ You ’ll get swamped in a trough — keep her in mid- 
stream and in a moment we ’re safe.” 

The strong paddles pinned the little crafts to 
their turning, churning the waters to a froth, the, 
angry, tumbling waters that seemed bound to win. 
But in a twinkling man’s strength had won the day, 
and both canoes were making progress safely up 
stream. 

After that fatal bend was reached the force was 
slackened, and the boys let up on their paddles for 
the first time. Both were pale and spent, but not so 
pale as a little figure that sat rigid as a statue in the 
prow of the red canoe, with a small yellow dog 
clasped in her arms. 

“ Thank Bob, dear,” whispered Willard. “ He 
saved you.” 

“ Thanks ! ” muttered May through parched lips, 
mechanically holding out a trembling hand as Wil- 
lard shot his canoe beside the other. “ Thanks, 
Bob.” 

Bob took the unsteady hand in his, touched it 
lightly with his lips, and then suddenly looked 
straight ahead and shot his canoe round a bend. 

“ We ’ll land ; you ’ll recover best to walk a bit. 
Action ’s always a restorer. What a trump you 
were to stick to your post, like the boy on the 
burning deck. Most any other girl would have 

i6 


242 


MERLE AND MAY 


fainted in a lifeless heap on the boat’s bottom. I 
felt proud of you, sitting up so brave and white.” 

“ Don’t praise me/’ faltered May with filling eyes. 
“ It ’s like your generosity to cover up my folly, and 
not blame me. O Willard, Willard ! when shall I 
ever learn to be prudent and obey orders? Suppos- 
ing anything had happened to Bob in saving me, 
how could I ever have faced Merle!” she sobbed, in 
a flood of tears. 

“ Supposing anything had happened to you, how 
could I ever have faced your mother? I thought of 
it even then. May.” 

“Would it be dishonorable if I didn’t tell her? 
There ’s no harm done, and it would only terrify her. 
I ’ve got my lesson, and can be prudent for a season 
now.” 

“ ‘ Mum’s ’ the word this time, as a reward. You 
fought a gallant fight, for you might have jumped 
overboard with fright and drowned yourself ” 

“ I deserved to drown.” 

“ But you paddled bravely, though it did no 
good.” 

“ I should think I did,” said May, opening out a 
blistered and bleeding hand. 

“ Poor girl 1 sit here on this stump and I ’ll bind it 
up with my handkerchief,” which Willard proceeded 
to do, kneeling before her in the bottom of the boat. 


PRANKS 


243 


“ Does it smart much? ” he asked kindly, when the 
task was done. 

“ Not half so much as my conscience. I ’m a 
black sheep, laddie. Scold just a little, please, so I 
can feel punished, and not so contemptible.” 

“ If you feel burdened with indebtedness, you 
might pay the doctor,” suggested Willard, keeping 
his eyes on the bandaged hand. 

May glanced at the kneeling figure, feeling sobered 
and grateful enough to pay the price demanded. 
The thought that Willard had risked his life to save 
her from her own rashness touched her deeply ; while 
the memory of those few moments when she had faced 
the agony of death made life seem very real and 
sweet, and the companion of many years deserving 
of his wish. She felt no sentimentalism ; she had lit- 
tle of that at any time ; and the impulse that 
prompted her surrender was girlishly sweet and 
serious. 

“A friend in need is a friend indeed,” she whis- 
pered in a husky voice; and bending forward she 
offered a pale, tear-stained face, willing to give and 
to receive. 

“ Here is one for each cheek and one for the 
dimple,” said Willard softly. ‘‘ Shall I take another 
for Bob? He was the true rescuer, you know.” 

“ Mine would n’t please in that quarter,” said May 


244 


MERLE AND MAY 


sagely. “ Merle was in his mind when his lips 
touched my hand. He was thinking with that Per- 
sian poet (what ’s his name?) — ‘ She is not the rose, 
but she has dwelt with her.’ Did n’t you hear what 
he called back to me — ‘ Don’t be rash again, girlie, 
and spoil Merle’s vacation ’ ? Poor Bob ! ” 

“Why sigh for that swain? ‘Poor Willard!’ 
would be more in order. But you ’re not going to 
be a horrid old maid now, are you ? ” 

“ There came near not being any maid at all,” 
laughed May evasively, and hastening to change the 
subject. “Did you hear Pickles bark?” 

“ Yes ; bless his boots — tail, I mean. After your 
one scream it was the first sound that reached us, 
and a welcome one it was, you bet! Pickles Norton, 
you shall have a red collar, and be my mascot after 
all; for you stuck to your mistress and guarded her 
well, which is as much as could have been expected of 
a dog twice your size.” 

There was a pause, which May ended by saying 
somewhat deprecatingly, “ It does n’t sound a bit 
romantic, I know, so soon after escaping from the 
jaws of death, but I ’m as hungry as a bear just 
coming out of his hibernating den ! Can’t we eat 
here, or would it be better to paddle up-stream a 
piece? ” 


PRANKS 


245 


‘‘ We ’d better move along nearer the train, it gets 
dark so quickly,” said Willard. ‘‘ Wait till I fluff up 
the cushions and shake the carpet (we took in a little 
water in turning the boat). There, my mate, cuddle 
down ; cheer up and get a little color in those cheeks, 
else I shall have to doctor them again.” 

May settled herself aimlessly, docile well-nigh to 
the point of imbecility; for she smiled while Willard 
adjusted the pillows and tucked in her skirts. In 
fact the usual May had been swallowed up in fright, 
and only her shadow remained. Marvelling that 
neither pillow nor paddle greeted his head in return 
for his gallantry, Willard made a mental memoran- 
dum of how sweet and docile a little woman May 
would make when she had done sowing her wild oats 
and had settled down for good. 

“We ’ll land here if you say so,” he suggested, 
presently, “ for this hill commands a view both up 
and down the river ; and we really ought to make 
Bob lunch with us, for I’m certain he has nothing — 
he seldom bothers the servants.” 

“ We ’ll keep our eyes open, and I ’ll set aside a 
share for him,” replied May, as the two settled them- 
selves on a mossy log and rehearsed the event of the 
day between welcome mouthfuls. 

“ I ’m glad it happened, anyway ! ” summed up 


246 


MERLE AND MAY 


the chief actor, for I Ve had my needed lesson, and 
it always takes something heroic to make an im- 
pression on me.” 

“ What are you two idiots doing up there ! ” called 
a familiar voice, proceeding from nobody knew where. 
“ Don’t you know the 5.17 ’s the last train up? ” 

“ We are a pair of idiots,” laughed May, scram- 
bling up pillows, sardine cans, olive and ginger ale 
bottles. 

“ It would just take an enforced night on the 
river to finish up this trying day. Never mind the 
other cushion — jump in!” commanded May, and 
Willard obeyed, giving the canoe a vigorous push 
with a leap that came near to landing him on his 
back in the middle. 

He did his best, but his strength was gone, and his 
hands were sore from his previous exertions. The 
canoe reached the landing just in time to see Bob’s 
legs disappear over a wall, and a trail of smoke float 
away in the sky. 

“O Willard! Willard Jenks! What shall we 
do?” cried May desperately. ‘‘If Bob gets home 
first it will terrify mother.” 

“ We ’ll paddle down to the next station and trust 
to getting a train on the branch. We can telephone 
your mother there.” 

There was a train, fortunately, which was miracu- 


PRANKS 


247 


lously caught. May boarded it with flying hair, 
and a medley of pillows and edibles under one arm, 
from which a merry little stream of sardine oil 
trickled noiselessly down her dress. The telephone 
had been overlooked in the rush, and Mrs. Norton and 
Roy met them at the door at dusk. 

‘‘ I was getting worried, dear ; try always to catch 
the early train. Did you have a pleasant day ” 
questioned Mrs. Norton, covering a mother’s un- 
spoken alarm with a thankful kiss. 

Roy nearly fell down the front stoop in his eager- 
ness to hear full particulars about this “ truly ” 
boat, for he had been beguiled at critical moments 
by the diplomatic May with promises that his lord- 
ship should frequently grace its expeditions. 

“ Such a day, mother ! and I can paddle like a 
duck,— ask Willard.” 

“ If you could swim like one I should feel far 
safer,” observed the maternal bird. “ Won’t you 
come in, Willard.^ ” 

“ No, thanks ; I ’ll let mother know I ’m safe too,” 
replied Willard, adding to himself, as he tipped his 
hat and turned down the steps, — 

“ ^ Where innocence is bliss,’ etc ! But — speaking 
of ducks — if this day’s work is to have many dupli- 
cates, I shall wish I had webbed hands too ! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


A week’s vacation 

While May was spending the holidays on the 
river, JMerle was having experiences of her own. In 
her despondent moods she was wont to say that her 
road never would have a turning, and perhaps she 
agreed with that sweet poet philosopher who ob- 
served that, while the Lord tempers the wind to the 
shorn lamb, doubtless He finds it necessary to tem- 
per the sunshine too. 

Several seeds of her planting had been faithfully 
tended for many months, tended with wistful and 
hopeful eyes, but they had lain dormant, evidently 
barren of results. Then one never-to-be forgotten 
day Merle woke to find her nascent seedlings burst 
into being with a growth which, to her young eyes, 
seemed as magic as Jack’s beanstalk. 

On the day in question. May, ignorant of these hap- 
penings, had gone to the upper story in search of 
her goddess. But no goddess was anywhere visible. 

The tidy little sitting-room, the dining-room, the 

248 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


240 


kitchen, the blue room, and Mr. Elliot’s chamber, — 
all bespoke a recent presence, but showed no sub- 
stantial one. 

May returned to the little blue chamber and stood 
pondering, when suddenly sounds of an indetermin- 
ate character seemed to issue from no particular 
spot. May peered under the bed, and then quickly 
crossed the room and threw open the closet door. 

This closet was very large, almost a respectable 
room as closets go nowadays, with hooks enough to 
accommodate a far more substantial wardrobe than 
Merle ever hoped to own. At one side reposed a 
long cedar chest, painfully suggestive in shape to 
that receptacle which forms one’s last resting place. 

INIerle entertained a very healthy horror of tliis 
coffin-like box, and nothing short of her love for 
Mrs. Norton, to whom it belonged, would ever have 
induced her to let it remain in her closet. 

As May swung back the door its ominous outline 
was the first to defy the gloom, and as her eyes went 
from its sepulchral depths to the cover balanced 
threateningly against some dark gowns, she felt a 
cold chill creep up her back, and swiftly emerged 
into the room’s daylight. Then, slowly, a long spec- 
tral form outlined itself in the depths of the cedar 
chest, and became tangible in two small boot-soles 
that stuck up from the lighted end. 


250 


MERLE AND MAY 


‘‘0 Merle, my dear, what is the matter?” cried 
May, gathering her goddess in her arms. 

The goddess was in a very dishevelled condition, 
with red eyes, rampant hair-pins, and wet cheeks. 
Yet her eyes sparkled behind their veil of tears, and 
her lips smiled for all their trembling 
“ O May ! May ! the skies have fallen ! ” 

Down went the brown head into the chest’s depths 
again, a light one following, which emerged later in 
an equally dishevelled state. 

“ Don’t weep and smile on that old skirt ! be more 
poetical and take refuge on my breast ! ” laughed 
]\Iay in stagey tones. “ Quick ! your news — the 
days of spontaneous combustion are not over, I ’m 
sure ! ” 

“ Three things have happened,” said Merle breath- 
lessly, two regular bombs, and the third is — well, 
at any other time it would have been good enough, 
but just now it’s inopportune.” 

“ Leave that for the last, and give me one and 
two,” urged May, quite at a loss to account for 
Merle’s excited condition. 

“ When it comes to choosing between my music 
and my scribbling, it ’s about an even draw, but,” 
added Merle, running an airy scale with her tapering 
fingers, “ perhaps the music lies nearest my heart. 


after all.” 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


251 


‘‘You said it first just now,’’ observed May with 
an outward smile and an inward groan. 

“ True, you observant bird. Well, you know 
what the poet says : ‘ The heart cannot possibly re- 
main neutral, but constantly takes part one way or 
the other.’ I found that in the dictionary under 
‘ neutral,’ and bagged it, — it may be useful to me 
later on.” 

The quotation left Merle in a reverie, for she 
paused, looking seemingly into the far future, — a 
veil her gray eyes pierced with pleasure. May 
watched the smile grow on her lips, and longed to 
know what web her fancy wove to make the little 
heart against which she leaned flutter and throb with 
excitement. 

“ Come back, come back to earth, my dear, or 
share your flight with me.” 

“ Oh, May, effort does pay ! Do you remember 
Miss Weston, an aunt or cousin of Bob’s, who spent 
a week with them not long ago ? ” 

“ The one who called on mother ? ” 

“ Yes. To-day she called on me. The sitting- 
room was spick and span, thank fortune! You 
have to be so particular. May, where callers are 
liable to drop in any minute. She was dressed so 
lovely in fur, and I felt so proud at such a stylish 
visitor, and she was so sweet with her offer, I really 


252 


MERLE AND MAY 


felt as if I were taking a load off her shoulders in 
accepting it. You see, she registered at the Con- 
servatory in the mid-term for piano lessons with one 
of its most expensive teachers, and paid her tuition 
in advance. Then, of course, she was taken ill, and 
has never felt able to put the effort into it until now, 
and her doctor thinks she would better go abroad. 
They don’t refund money there, but they allowed 
her to transfer it. She said she had cudgelled her 
brains to think who would put enough effort into the 
work to please her, and then suddenly she thought of 
me. She recalled how ‘ diligently and earnestly ’ 
(them ’s her words, not mine) I had practised that 
week she visited here ; so she put her things right on 
and came. Oh, I wonder if I ever shall be rich 
enough to go round beautifully dressed, handing over 
food for the gods to poor girls. I don’t know how 
she managed it, — I ’m so proud, — but I felt the 
tears fill my eyes, and then she got up and kissed 
me. ‘When I get back from abroad next year,’ 
she said, ‘ I shall have to hear your progress.’ It ’s 
mine. May, six months with the best of teachers ! 
Do you wonder that I feel as if the skies had 
fallen ” 

“ Dear honey bee, won’t you sip nectar from this 
sweet flower ? I ’m so glad, so glad ! ” exclaimed 

generous-hearted May. “ Does Bob know of it.? ” 


A WEEICS VACATION 


253 


‘‘ Oh, no, — that is, she did n’t say so, but I in- 
ferred as much. Of course she ’d know how dis- 
tasteful that would be.” 

Of course,” admitted May with more than usual 
tact ; then after an introspective pause she brought 
her soliloquies to a head by a saying that had done 
service before, only this time it was unspoken : “ I 
wonder why owls are all eyes, and bats have none.^ ” 

“ I sha’n’t leave you any time to thrill, my dear, 
for fortune has lifted her cap twice, you know. 
This can’t be so great a surprise, because you know 

I scribble. It ’s different than, though 

“You mustn’t say ‘than’ after ‘different.’ I 
stumbled on that somewhere. Merle,” corrected May 
sagely. “A thing differs /row.” 

“ I ’m so glad you told me, dear. It ’s very neces- 
sary to know just such things ; it ’s ammunition for 
my profession,” said the literary swallow of one 
summer, whipping out a tiny memorandum book, 
from which a bird’s-egg-blue and gilt-tipped pencil 
depended. “ In writing you must have grammar at 
your finger-ends. May. Listen to my notes*. 

“ “ Each ” means two. 

“ “ One another ” means three. 

“ ‘ Never say “ off of ” ; “ off ” is enough. 

“ ‘ Don’t use a preposition to end a sentence 
jvith 


254 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Tlien the subjunctive! The subjunctive is some- 
thing fierce, May. It ’s the wrong of the right. 
It ’s like some dress goods that you never can tell the 
right from the wrong side of till it ’s made up. 
First, you must n’t say ‘ I be ’ or ‘ she be,’ and then 
you must. Don’t you know that old poet says : 

'What care I how fair she be. 

If she be not fair for me ’ ? ” 

But May did not know that, or anything else at 
that moment; for as Merle happened to give an up- 
ward thrust of her arms in the energy of her 
exposition, the cover of the cedar chest, the good be- 
havior of which had been conditional on her station- 
ary position, lost its balance, and, descending with 
more rapidity and force than seemed called for, 
sandwiched the girls between itself and the rim upon 
which it normally rested. 

“ I hate that thing, — it will be the death of me 
yet!” growled Merle, wriggling out after the stars 
had cleared from her vision. “ I must get some 
vinegar and brown paper, we don’t want to look as 
if we ’d been in a prize fight — this week least of all.” 

“ I ’ll forget the bumps best if you ’ll go on,” said 
May, recovering. “ It was the subjunctive mood 
you were at.” 

“ If I ‘ be ’ such a goose as to go near that thing 
again, I deserve to have my vertebrae dislocated ! ” 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


255 


laughed Merle. “ Well, you see, I can’t tell it half 
so well with all the wits knocked out of me, but per- 
haps you recall that story I wrote last fall — ‘ Ruby’s 
Romance ’ ? There ’s a name for that when you 
get both letters alike, ‘ alliteration.’ Well, I deter- 
mined to try its luck; so I began with the Atlantic 
Monthly and worked down the list. I had nice, 
civil letters from every one ; printed letters, which 
shows there are a great many who get left. ‘ Dear 
Madam,’ — did n’t that sound rich ? and they went 
on to say it wasn’t my fault that they returned it; 
they are short of room often ; the advertisements do 
take up a great deal of space (you and I have 
noticed that) ; and they said oftentimes others ac- 
cepted what they did n’t. So I just kept hopeful — 

though the stamps I used did count up — and finally, 

# 

to-day, it was accepted! Oh May, think of me in 
print I It ’s a small paper and they don’t pay any- 
thing, but they gave me six months’ subscription 
free. I didn’t care for that, but I shall let them 
do it just to waste their stamps, when they ’re too 
mean to give me a dollar or two. But, May, it 
means I ’ve put my foot on the first rung of the 
ladder, and it will be easy climbing now,” cried 
Young Hope with a brown-paper diadem on her 
gifted brow. “ How shall I sign myself. Merle 
Elliot, or Merle Royce Elliot.? ” 


256 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Merle Elliot sounds best ; then when you get 
married it won’t make it too long. Merle Elliot — 
well, ‘ White,’ for instance, would sound better than 
IVIerle Royce Elliot White,” observed the owl. 

Figs for your marrying! I’m a Mormon 
now, with a pen and a piano for husbands. I think 
the last thing I wrote was what took the editor. 
It ’s queer. May, but literary people are often in- 
spired at night. I was, and wrote it on the head- 
board under the rose design. It does n’t show much 
— it happened to strike a leaf. I think the Battle 
Hymn of the Republic must have been written 
there, — on her headboard of course, — and most of 
Uncle Tom*s Cabin. It ’s queer,” mused Merle, 
tasting even then — what literary owls of longer 
moult have learned to dread and discount — this wide- 
eyed midnight vision, when the tired brain awakens 
and persists in fancy’s weaving. 

“ Won’t it sound grand, — ‘ Merle Elliot, author of 
Ruby ’s Romance ,^ — when you come to send the next 
story ? ” said May. “ I knew you had ability — it 
wasn’t just a diseased fancy of mine that kept my 
blood curdling when you told ghost stories on the 
stairs. Where shall you send the next.?^” 

“ Not to them, you may be sure They ’ll never 
get another word of mine; and when I’m famous 
they ’ll wish they ’d had a little more honor in the 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


257 


start. Why they kept even the stamps I sent for its 
return ! ” 

“What’s number three in the surprise line.^^ ” 

“ Ah, that ’s the thorn among the roses, the bitter 
with the sweet. But I shall go. You see Della has 
invited me to spend the holidays with her at col- 
lege. It ’s a very kind letter, quite unlike her, and 
I felt perhaps she meant we should get along better 
hereafter. She ’s been brought under different in- 
fluences this year, and so have I, and I hope we 
shall grow to think more of each other. I ’m going 
to try to be less impetuous and impatient with her 
rule when she comes home this summer; and it seems 
as if I ought to be able to remember that for at least 
three months of the year I ’m not ‘ Miss Elliot.’ I 
could n’t bear to think of going when I first opened 
the letter, for I had a sort of feeling — doubtless my 
own hateful suspicions — that she had invited Miss 
Stein first, and that she could n’t come. But I had 
a talk with your mother, and she said ‘ Go.’ She ’s 
always right, so I shall go, though it ’s hard when 
so much is in the air this week.” 

May’s first impulse, to ignore duty and urge her 

goddess not to spoil her week’s vacation and that of 

others, died on her lips. She was learning, too, in her 

own impulsive way, to look higher than her own 

pleasure; for she suddenly sobered and sat quietly 
17 


258 


MERLE AND MAY 


stroking the soft little hand that rested in her lap, 
feeling, perhaps with another, that no guide could 
prove more humanly sweet and sure than the fair 
young mentor by her side. 

Visits which necessitated the purchase of a ticket 
beforehand and the packing of a trunk were not so 
frequent that they could be met without excite- 
ment by these simple people in their quiet lives, 
and the few hours which intervened between Merle’s 
decision and her start were filled almost to 
bursting. 

May offered everything in her possession to aug- 
ment the simple wardrobe; Mrs. Norton did up the 
one white lawn with a sure and practised hand, and 
took many loving stitches in the neat little nothings ; 
while Roy, not to be outdone in friendly offerings, 
carried up his baby chain and locket, and a dime 
watch that “ truly went.” Merle clasped the 
locket round her neck, and tucked the watch in her 
belt, to which she made frequent reference in the 
process of packing. It was the secret of her suc- 
cess with children, — to meet them freely on their 
own ground, and never to repulse a generous act or 
impulse. 

The trunk succeeded in getting its lid closed after 
many abortive attempts, and May danced the can- 
can on its cover, to assist in the easier working of 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


259 


the lock. The fat expressman shouldered it and 
went bumping down the front stairs, swearing the air 
blue in return for Mrs. Norton’s vigilance, as she 
guarded him from the walls, the gas globe, the 
banister rails, and her new oilcloth treadings. 

Roy thirsted to lend a helpful hand, and spent the 
remainder of the da}’^ in fierce experiments with a 
doll’s trunk, a relic of May’s girlhood. He hoisted 
it with groans, shouldered it with expletives, and 
drove reckless miles in his express-cart in pursuit 
of a flying train. 

Merle said ‘‘ Good-by ” and went tripping down 
the steps with a motherly embrace from Mrs. Norton, 
several bear-hugs from May, and Roy’s baby kisses 
still wet upon her face. 

She was alone, but with happy plans enough in 
mind to beguile a far longer journey than that in 
hand. She checked her trunk with a business-like 
air, feeling that it was timely practice for one who 
might soon be called upon to manage copyrights and 
all the numerous details connected with authorship, 
and composed herself in the dingy car, not without 
solicitous help from the conductor, who smiled 
blandly into her pretty face and upset her and her 
bundles with his familiar ‘‘ boost.” 

“ Excuse me; I ’m looking for a young lady what 
answers to this name,” informed the colored porter. 


260 


MERLE AND MAY 


presenting Merle with her own card. “ If that ’s 
yer name, please follow.” 

“ What next ! ” muttered Merle, as the porter 
gathered her bag and bundles together and bowed 
as if to a queen. 

Through the door, over the car’s coupling, 
through another door, on, on. Merle sped after her 
dusky guide, and finally sank into a commodious 
revolving chair in the parlor car. 

“ I ’m to look out for your comfort, missis, my 
directions is. Will you have your water iced or 
plain ? and shall I raise the shade higher ? ” 

“ It ’s all right, thanks ; I ’ll ring if I wish for 
anything,” vouchsafed Merle in a condescending 
tone, hoping thereby to disguise the fact that this 
was the first time her aristocratic feet had ever 
passed the threshold of a parlor car. 

The latest Atlantic and Harder rested on her lap, 
for the porter had lifted them from the chair and 
handed them to her. Merle opened at random, not 
with intent of reading, but merely as a focus for her 
eyes. But a whiff of perfume brought her glance 
to the window-sill, and there it encountered a mag- 
nificent bunch of violets and a box of her well- 
beloved Huyler’s. 

Merle lifted the violets to her face and held them 
there. And if her eyes filled, who shall say whether 


A WEEK^S VACATION 


261 


it was from pain or pleasure or tender trust? A 
small card nestled in their midst, but what need of 
that? Who but her Bob ever ministered with such 
gracious tact? 

If the journey was long Merle never knew it. It 
seemed but a moment before the porter again swept 
off with her things, and glancing amazedly out she 
saw Della in waiting. 

Roy had a busy week in his office as postman, for 
scarcely a day went by that a gray uniform was not 
seen laboring up the front stoop. He called next 
door too, the wearer of the gray uniform, at least 
three times in the course of that week, and left a 
snow-white scented envelope, addressed ‘‘ Mr. Robert 
White/’ and postmarked Northampton. 

Though such a reserved little body, even her week’s 
vacation failed to awaken Merle from her intoxication 
of success and hope. Della was not altogether a 
satisfactory confidante ; May was too impetuous and 
too young fully to understand the magnitude of her 
ambitions ; but Bob not only could, but would, take 
pride in her success and live in her hope. 

Perhaps it was his last generous act that enticed 
Merle out of her reserve; or it may have been the 
dynamic happenings in her own small world that 
made her long to shout the glad tidings from the 
housetops. Such a sweet confidence as it was, — the 


262 


MERLE AND MAY 


girlish hope to reach up, up, and shape her future as 
easily in her hand as if she had but to pluck the rip- 
ened fruit and carry its nectar to her lips. 

They were well worth their price, those three little 
letters, if they cost their author any effort; for they 
were read and re-read with thirsty yearning, each 
word balanced and none found wanting, and the re- 
cipient read something in their girlish trust and en- 
deavor that quickened his pulse and squared his 
shoulders and made his step the firmer. 


CHAPTER XIV 


LETTERS 

(Merle to May) 

Northampton, Mass. 

Dear May: 

In keeping with my promise I write at once to 
acquaint you with my safe arrival. Della met me 
and seemed unnaturally pleasant. She has im- 
proved. Being with such nice girls could n’t help 
influencing her, I think. She had ruching in her 
sleeves and neck, and she does n’t bite her nails so 
badly. Also she has let down her serge skirt and 
covered up the crease with braid, which heightens 
her considerably when I ’m not by, then my chin is 
on a level with her ears. 

Every one has been very kind to me, though of 
course many are away. I like Della’s room-mate, — 
a sweet, sensible girl, who plays divinely. My fin- 
ger-tips itched to touch the baby-grand here, but 
I could n’t bring myself to speak about it to Della, 

263 


264 


MERLE AND MAY 


nor of Miss Weston’s gift either. Della is n’t so ex- 
citable as I am, and the story in did n’t please 

her much. She said it would be best to just sign my 
initials, as the magazine was n’t any great credit to 
one. Also I ’d better not scribble any more and in- 
terfere with my studies, on account of graduating. 
But she did n’t intimate that doing the housework 
would interfere any ! I always feel so young and 
stupid alongside of Della ! She has such a faculty 
of taking the starch out of one ; and then she 
knows such a heap, and knows she knows it ! 

Let me whisper it. She did invite Miss Stein, and 
she could n’t come, so I was an after-thought. But 
I ’m not going to let that matter. I did right to 
come, and I shall do my best to be pleased, though 
I can’t help thinking of you dear ones, and longing 
to be back. 

If they should send the proof sheets, you ’d better 
wire me, as I should n’t like to keep the magazine 
waiting. 

What larks you must be having! 

Love to all, and a kiss for Roy, 

Merle. 

(May to Merle) 

Roxbury, Mass. 

My Darling Merle : 

I just devoured your letter, I was so hungry to 
hear. You must write every blessed day. 


LETTERS 


265 


Oh, Merle, there came near being a tragedy on the 
river, and I the heroine, which will be the only way 
I shall ever get into print, I guess ! It was too ter- 
rible for words, and I shall reserve it for telling. 
Only “ mum’s ” the word, remember ! I take that 
reward as a reminder for future prudence. 

Such larks ! wait till summer, and if all moves 
well we ’ll have the time of our lives. That ’s a secret 
too, but I keep having the chills up my spine every 
time I think of it, w'hich is pretty much all day. 

Bob’s canoe is “ out of sight ” — a regular daisy ; 
and the girls are falling over each other in their at- 
tentions to its owner. He is simply stunning in his 
pink and blue shirts ; and, as Miss Shaw remarked, 
“ He ’s handsome enough to make drowning with 
him a pleasure.” 

Frank took Blanche out last week, and she has n’t 
recovered yet, and she ’s bought a Japanese sunshade 
to be in readiness for the next trip; which I hope, 
for her sake, will take place before your return. 

Please excuse the blots, — Waffles and Sally Lunn 
are responsible for them. One is on my neck chew- 
ing my ear, and the other has got lost under my 
skirts. 

Mother got a very encouraging letter from Grace 
this week, and is so happy that she keeps w^andering 
round the new room and planning all sorts of things. 


266 


MERLE AND MAY 


They — Grace and Will — have come as far north as 
Philadelphia, but Will intimates that he is liable to 
get an appointment to the West any day, and he 
does n’t mind keeping away from Boston’s spring, 
which seems to have a bad name, though it suits me. 
“ Tell Merle sister is in Filfidelfia,” Roy importunes. 
(Is n’t that last rich? I mean importunes.”) 

Oh, my dear, come back ! Could n’t you come 
just one day sooner and pay your social debts here? 
There ’s so much to tell! but I want to reserve it for 
your “ trembling ears.” That ’s in Lycidas^ my 
dear. Shall I not bag a few literary ducks for your 
consumption? I didn’t understand how it is used 
there, — Milton bungles so with words. Don’t you 
know those mirthful lines where he says, — 

“ Trip it lightly as ye go, 

On the light fantastie toe ” ? 

Now, Merle, seriously, between you and me, can you 
swallow ‘‘ toe ” in poetry ? And what does “ fan- 
tastic toe ” mean ? 

A duck’s foot is webbed, a satyr is “ cloven ” in 
poetry, hoofed in plain English. I cannot think of 
any “fantastic toe” in all literature, can you? 
When it comes down to plain human nature, you 
would have to put on red stockings and high-heeled 
slippers to make it fantastic, and then you no longer 


LETTERS 


267 


have ‘Hoe,” but foot. Is n’t “toe” the concrete of 
foot.^ Tabby .has been explaining “concrete,” and 
she said it was “ a part as distinguished from the 
whole.” 

But to go back to Lycidas and the “ trembling 
ears.” I ^aw at once it could be used with effect . 
If you were describing a donkey, for instance, his 
cars are so large any one could see their trembling 
at a glance — especially in fly time ; and it would still 
leave something for the reader’s imagination, which 
rhetoric advises ; for the fact is, as you might say, 
patent; and just that one word would paint your 
picture with what they call, I think, a bold, free, 
brush. (I don’t like brush there, but after saying 
“ paint ” I have to carry out the consistency, but you 
can supply “ pencil ” in your mind’s eye, or “ pen ” 
if you prefer ink.) 

I find I am better in English than I thought. If 
I still improve we might write the next story to- 
gether. Famous authors do, and there ’s a word 
that means it, but I can’t think — oh, yes ! it ’s “ col- 
laboration ” ; we ’ll collaborate, if you like. Or if 
you would rather, I might illustrate. I can draw 
whales and lobsters to perfection. Ha! Ha! 

I can’t think of any more, so good-by, sweetheart ; 
here ’s a kiss, and these 000000 are from Roy. 

Yours in constancy. 

May. 


268 


MERLE AND MAY 


(Mrs. Norton to Merle) 

Roxbury, Mass. 

My Dear Girl: 

I was so pleased to get your neat, correct little 
letter, which seemed to me typical of its author. 
Never mind, my dear, if you did accidentally find 
out that I wrote and suggested that your sister 
should invite you to Northampton. Be so pleasant 
and amenable that she can’t possibly regret what 
perhaps cost her an effort too. 

I am sure you deserve all the happiness that has 
come to you, for of late I have had to wipe my 
spectacles very clear to find any tares among my 
wheat. Dear, ambitious little maid ! keep on en- 
deavoring, and by and by I shall have to wipe them 
more often still to clear them from the misty pride 
that will gather in my eyes because of your success. 

There must be something sweet and good about 
a little body whom every one misses. Your father 
seems quite lost and aimless, and does n’t like my 
toast so well as yours, and was quite frank in saying 
so. He has filed a lot of clippings to read on your 
return, and several vital questions for your decision, 
which shows how beautifully necessary you are 
growing to be to him. Take pleasure in your well- 
doing, my dear. Jean Ingelow says: “Joy is the 
grace we saj to God.” 


LETTERS 


269 


I have a surprise for you in more material matters. 
I found a love of a dotted muslin at a bargain, and 
bought it for your graduation frock. If you don’t 
like it, it can be turned over to May. You can pay 
for it as slowly as you please; and it will save your 
being worried about it. I shall help in the making 
of it as my gift to you. Don’t you think three rows 
of lace insertion in the skirt, and a sort of surplice 
waist, low at the throat, would be dainty.^ 

Rest from everything you have been doing and 
thinking, and come home refreshed and glad to take 
up your duties again. 

Remember me to Miss Elliot. 

Yours with love, 

Jean Norton. 


(Bob to Merle) 

Cambridge, Mass. 

Dear Merle: 

Thanks for that last letter. It was so dear it al- 
most paid for your running off like a pious little 
nun in a gray cloak of duty. 

You only speak of your plans, and not of your 
doings. Are you having a good time, ma chere ? 

I was afraid you were not, and so I wrote to my 
cousin, Mr. William White of Amherst, to present 
his card and do the honors by you. He is a nice 


270 


MERLE AND MAY 


fellow, but you will remember his attentions are 
mine by proxy, will you not? 

Now confidence begets confidence, so I am going 
to whisper something in your ear. Did you know 
what the night we went to the opera meant to me? 
I kept it quiet then for state reasons, but you will 
hear of it in time and misjudge me if I don’t “ ’fess.” 
In short I was twenty-one — a gentleman “ growd.” 
In other words I have a bankbook now, and am do- 
ing my best to reduce its figures. To speak plainer, 
I am studying finances in the world’s market. I 
have bought a piece of land and am about to build 
on it. Perhaps you recall my real-estate fever last 
Avinter, and see that there was “ method in my mad- 
ness.” I intend to rent it to some capable woman 
or couple who aauII run it for a clique of us felloAvs, 
about fifteen in all. Willard and I have agreed it 
would be easier to live in Cambridge another year ; 
and you know “ distance lends enchantment.” I 
imagine Miranda Avill not be so cruel to her Fer- 
dinand as to shut herself up in her cave (as she 
frequently does now) when he has to travel miles to 
see her. 

I enclose a facsimile of the plans. Do you think 
it is too cut up with bays? Yet, if I remember, you 
are fond of sunny rooms. Won’t it be “ larks ” 
finishing it, and furnishing my own rooms? Will 


LETTERS 


271 


you help with the wall paper, and be free with your 
valued advice? 

Have a good time, and come home ready for 
more. I suppose we ’ll all have to shut ourselves up 
till the finals are over, and one “ sweet girl gradu- 
ate” bows over her diploma, then we’ll toss up our caps 
and make Rome howl. The river bids fair to furnish 
all it promised, though May got a sobering the first 
day, and came very near furnishing the undertaker 
with a trio of subjects for his art. Did she tell? 

No, I don’t believe in capital punishment ; and I 
can see the point of your free-trade policy. You ’ll 
make a politician of me yet, my — excuse me, a slip 
of the pen, my — excuse me again. 

I have been up to the Bendonsas’ twice, as you 
asked, and found all the domestic machinery running 
smoothly. How they love you, my mentor! Mrs. B. 
actually crossed herself when I spoke your name, and 
then smiled and said she did n’t know but living 
saints did more for us nowadays than dead ones. 
Wise woman ! I believe in living saints too, and one 
I worship. 

Let me know of your return train. Remember! 
that is my payment for missing the pleasure of see- 
ing you aboard when you started. 

Yours ever. 


Bob. 


272 


MERLE AND MAY 


(Merle to May) 

Northampton, Mass. 

Dearest May: 

Things have turned out better than they promised, 
and I have had several jolly days, and one surprise. 

You see, many of the girls in Della’s house (which 
is a little community in itself, for Freshmen never 
get on the Campus) remained here through the va- 
cation, and the teacher in charge kindly planned sev- 
eral pleasures for them. 

One was a dance. I did n’t anticipate much, as 
Della knows no young men, and I could n’t dance 
with her. But I put on my mull, and dressed my 
hair low in the Psyche knot you like and Della 
does n’t, outside of statuary. But the dull time 
did n’t materialize, for one of the girls has taken 
me up. In other words she seems to like me, and 
she brought up a bunch of Amhersts for introduc- 
tions. Nice fellows ! Then I saw a young man 
looking intently at me. His face seemed just fa- 
miliar enough to disconcert me, and while I was 
trying to place him, he asked Miss Farrer for an in- 
troduction. “ Miss Elliot, Mr. White ” ; and then 
suddenly he held out his hand — which is n’t proper. 
May ; remember, a woman always makes the advances. 

“ Why ! is this the Miss Elliot ! ” he exclaimed, 
and I shook in my boots for fear of Della. Then 


LETTERS 


273 


it all cleared up. He is Bob’s cousin, and looks like 
him, only there is something lacking in his face that 
Bob has. (You need n’t go and repeat that now — 
mind !) 

Well, I was n’t any wall flower that night, be 
sure, nor the next day either, for he invited us to 
drive, and was so lovely to Della that she thawed 
and went. Mt. Tom and Mt. Hadley are so pictur- 
esque, May, and the bridge with the Connecticut 
flowing under, and then the meadows, — Oh ! there ’s 
something in the air this spring that keeps me fairly 
drunk with joy. 

Then he asked us to row on the lake or river, — 
Paradise they call it, — but Della had an engagement 
with one of the professors which left me alone, and 
so I greeted gladly this opportunity not to be alone. 
But I felt the temperature fall at once, in Della’s 
air, though I said nothing, feeling that I was get- 
ting too old to have any apron strings visible. 

I expected Della would say something when we 
were alone; and if so I could send him a note of 
regret. But she did n’t mention it — and so 

did n’t I. 

I had a fine time, imagining Paradise was the 
Charles River, and he, Mr. White, was Bob, and you 
and Willard were with me in ghost form. But, when I 
returned, — my dear ! Speaking of curtain lectures, 

i8 


274 


MERLE AND MAY 


Mrs. Caudle was n’t in it ! D. laid me right out, 
just like old times. I wanted to flare up and pack 
my trunk, but I remembered my resolve ; and. May 
dear, it ’s surprising how easy it is to be calm if 
you once try it. So it blew over, and Mr. White 
is relieved of the burden of entertaining me ; though 
it seemed insulting when Bob had asked him to do 
it. The fact is, Della does not like young men, and 
to her a girl who comes much under their influence^ 
loses something — I don’t know what — but something, 
clearly. 

Does Willard’s and Bob’s kindness and thought- 
fulness work your downfall, my dear.?^ Could you 
“ cross them off the list, and say they never will be 
missed”.^ Dear me, I don’t pose for a flirt, but I 
confess I should miss the boys. (You needn’t re- 
peat that either.) 

Do you realize how few weeks remain of school, 
and do the final exams make faces at you.^ The 
Glee Club here sing the following “ pome,” which you 
might do well to take to heart: 

“ They said she must not worry 
Nor sit up late to cram. 

Nor have a sense of hurry 
In writing her exam. 

And so she did not worry 
Nor sit up late to cram, 


LETTERS 


275 


Nor have a sense of hurry, — 

And she flunked in her exam ! 

Only two days more, my dear, so cheer up, and 
have the corncake hot. 


Love, 

Merle. 


(May to Merle) 


Roxbury, Mass. 

Most Gracious Goddess: 

Though I run the risk of this crossing you on 
the way, I can’t keep from writing. 

, My dear, as I was posting your last letter at the 
corner, I turned hurriedly and ran plunk into Cap- 
tain White. I nearly knocked him flat, but I darted 
on too frightened to apologize. Then he grabbed 
me by the shoulder and said in a gruff voice, but with 
a twinkle in his eye, — 

“ Is this my neighbor? ” 

“ No neighbor, sir,” says I, “ but your next-door 
resident.” 

Then he laughed (you ’d worship his teeth. Merle ; 
just a wilderness of gold!) and said: 

“ I guess I deserve that, you pert one. But you 
are not the proud one with the gray eyes ? ” (When, 
please, did you give him the pleasure of determining 
their color?) 


276 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ Mj eyes are green, sir, by nature, blue only by 
the courtesy of my friends,” says I. Then he 
chucked me under the chin with his gold-headed cane, 
and said : 

“ I understand now some of the attraction next 
door. Very good, my girl. Run over some time, 
and bring the gray-eyed one with you.” 

Watch them crawl out of their shells, now 
you ’re beginning to be famous. Merle. I hope 

I 

you ’ll sit on them, every one, and not let them 
“ taffy ” you ! 

Yesterday there was a crowd of us on the river. 
Blanche tries to be funny sometimes, and usually at 
my expense. She thinks I ’m an ignoramus and she 
likes to show me up to the boys. Willard says she 
makes him “ tired,” I was talking, and I ended 
by saying if I got plucked in examis, geometry 
would be my Waterloo. 

“ Waterloo,” says she, “ what ’s that ? ” 

“ Water — water,” says I, acting flustered. “ Oh, 
yes, it ’s a river in France where a famous general, 
Napoleon, I believe, was drowned.” 

And she swallowed it all, and nearly upset the 
canoe laughing, and the boys all joined in after 
giving me the wink. What a puppy she is, and 
have you ever noticed what mammoth feet she has.^ 
They show up dreadfully in a canoe, though she sits 


LETTERS 


277 


on them or keeps them under the cushions for the 
most part. 

The last day before vacation, Sir Tom called on 
her to recite the duties of a Justice of the Peace. 
She was n’t prepared, for he had been calling on the 
girls alphabetically for the last few weeks, and he 
was n’t anywhere near her initial. But she thinks 
he began at the wrong end of the pack. She was eat- 
ing cardamom seeds at the time, which added to her 
confusion. 

“ He, — the Justice of the Peace,” she stammered, 
“ has the right to marry.” 

“Naturally,” said Sir Tom; and the girls snick- 
ered. She saw the point, and added, more flustered 
still : 

“ That is — I mean — he has the right to marry 
some one else,” and then the girls shouted ; and after 
Sir Tom recovered he gave us a lesson in equivocal 
English, which used up the rest of the hour and 
saved Blanche’s bacon. 

I have found bloodroot and saxifrage in the 
fields, but I have saved them for you to pick, my 
darling. Oh, what with this spring weather, and 
the thought of your return and a pickled lime or two, 
I could write poetry ! 

Once upon a time, 

Not very far behind. 


278 


MERLE AND MAY 

Lived a goddess fair, 

With loeks of chestnut hair. 

There, now! that just dripped off my pen point, 
without any thought. I can see now what you mean 
by inspiration; it ’s just as though you didn’t do it 
yourself at all, only waked up in time to judge it. 

If w^e should “ elaborate ” — no, “ collaborate ” — 
together, I might do the poetry part, and you the 
prose. Or if I illustrate, how would I do the eyes in 
Ruhy^s Romance ? You say, — “ Mercurial light 
burned in her azure eyes.” 

I have drawn and painted whole sheets of eyes ; I 
can get the azure, but the mercury in the old porch 
thermometer is different I can’t blend the two — 
mercury runs into shot ; it covers everything ; my 
ring is no longer gold. You wdll have to change that 
line. On sober second thought, you can see her eyes 
could not be mercury color and blue at once. Oh, 
how you have to balance things in literature! 

I mustn’t write another w^ord, for I only have 
one stamp, and my month’s allowance has run out. 

Oh, I am so hungry for the sight of you ! Do take 
an early train. 

Love by the bushel. 


May. 


CHAPTER XV 


LILAC BUSHES 

“ ‘ A straight line is the shortest distance between 
two points. A straight line is the shortest dis- 
tance between two points. A straight line is the 
shortest distance between two points.’ The more I 
saj that, the less sense there is in it.” 

“ If you say it once again, May, there ’ll be no 
sense left in me,” complained Merle. “ Move along 
nearer the poplar. If we ’re to study together on 
the roof, you ’ve got to contribute your share of 
quiet.” 

“ When Sir Oracle opes his lips, let no man speak ! 
Shakespeare. Most reverend goddess, allow me to 
invoke vour aid. See, from this catkin a to this 
caterpillar h, how can it be anything but a straight 
line.? ” 

“ It could be a broken line, could n’t it, or a 
curve.? ” 

“ A broken line, or a curve,” repeated May re- 
flectively. “ But a broken line is more than one line. 




279 


280 


MERLE AND MAY 


and a curve is n’t a straight line at all ! Supposing 
i\Iiss Llojd said, ‘ Miss Norton, step to the board 
and draw me a straight line from a to b * and I 
should chalk a curve, what do you think she would 
say ? ” 

“ In all probability she would inquire what you 
had for breakfast, if strong coffee figured in the 
bill of fare. But don’t try to understand things ; 
that isn’t expected. Just learn them enough to 
squeak through, and next year in solid geometry you 
can dismiss all that bug dust. I never shall get 
these history dates in my head. They ’re like a 
Jack-in-the-box, the harder I pack them in, the 
stronger they are to fly out. Do you remember 
whether the Spanish Armada comes before or after 
the reign of Henry VIII ” 

‘‘ Henry VIII. Let me think. It must come 
after. Merle, because there ’s a great deal of history 
about his wives, and after the Spanish Armada 
every one about was drowned and there was n’t any 
history for quite a breathing spell. Besides was n’t 
he the king who said, ‘ After us the deluge ’ ” 

“ I ’m not talking about Louis Fifteenth and the 
French Revolution. You ’re only a couple of cen- 
turies off.” 

‘‘ Don’t waste your breath asking me questions in 
anything, least of all history. I never shall know 


LILAC BUSHES 


281 


anything about it till I get out of school. If we 
could study it ‘ by and large ’ — that ’s a new 
phrase, Merle, — make a note of it. Edward Everett 
Hale uses it, and though I never saw any sense in it 
before, you can see how applicable it is to the matter 
in hand. If, as I was saying, we could study his- 
tory ‘by and large’ (with a spy-glass, for instance, 
that would search out only large facts, and not spend 
so much time with microscopes that by the time we 
have dissected parts we entirely lose sight of the 
whole), then I think I should love history. Cause 
and effect — cause and effect, you know.” 

“ That won’t come till the millennium, my dear. 
We shall have to cram like any Strasburg goose, and 
rely on the strength of our interior to digest the 
compound. The trouble with us is, we try to know 
too much. We don’t have time to label and shelve 
things; we just toss them into our closet of brains, 
and trust to luck to their finding lodgment on a 
shelf or a hook to hang on.” 

“Most of mine fall to the floor and get trodden 
out of shape. The floor of my brain, my dear, is a 
mosaic of fearful and wonderful design. Historical 
dates and chemical symbols lap over each other, or 
get wedged against the hypothenuse of a right-angle 
triangle. What does n’t fall to the floor usually 
gets lodged on the top shelf, but that ’s too high to 


282 


MERLE AND MAY 


reach without a long ladder of reflection. There 
are just two historical facts within easy reach, and 
they are glued to the shelves. One is the sale of 
Indulgences, and the other is the massacre of St. 
Batholomew. They stick there because of the 
fracas we had with the Roman Catholics not long 
ago, — the law of association, you see.” 

“ Would n’t it be lovely if w^e did n’t have to 
waste time learning things we don’t like.^ ” observed 
Merle, flecking off a fuzzy caterpillar which looked 
like an animated catkin. “ Supposing all the birds 
had to go to one school and learn to build their nests 
by precept. Supposing the oriole had to leave ‘ his 
pendent bed and procreant cradle,’ and build in a 
brush heap, and the song sparrow was shooed out of 
his beloved underbrush and given nervous prostra- 
tion by trying to find safety in a tree-top. We 
girls can’t all be alike, yet we are all put through the 
same mill, and come out bottled and labelled like green 
olives. Some of us get so crushed in the packing 
process that it takes years to woo back our origin- 
ality, and some of us lose it for good. Mercy! I 
never shall learn these chemical symbols, they ’re so 
arbitrary. Do you remember the reaction for 
H2 SO -f- KOH .? ” 

“ I know the reaction of studying chemistry only 


LILAC BUSHES 


283 


too well. Don’t I always have a splitting headache 
Tuesdays and Fridays. Mother says she never knew 
the holes in bread were carbonic acid gas bubbles ; 
but she could make a loaf fit for the queen when she 
was n’t so old as I am by many moons.” 

“ Well, my dear, let ’s go back to our cramming, 
and take courage with the thought that after the 
exams we can bait our hooks and fish to our liking 
for several weeks to come.” 

Merle hitched along the shed roof, turned her back 
to her companion, and, stuffing her fingers in her 
ears, bent over an open volume in her lap. Now and 
then her eyes involuntarily wandered to the lilac bush, 
glanced over its fragrant top, and rested on the 
velvet lawn of the Whites’ grounds, sprinkled with 
honest dandelions that reared their golden disks and 
flashed back the sun’s dazzle. No word was spoken, 
for the furtive glance Merle now and then stole at 
]\Iay showed that she was in the depths of studious 
endeavor. Such unbroken calm was portentous and 
bewitched Merle’s eyes into frequent watchfulness. 
May’s face was flushed, and she worked over some- 
thing with great energy of purpose. In one of her 
questioning glances their eyes met, but no light of 
recognition answered Merle’s. 

O 

“ ‘ Avaunt, and quit my sight ! Let the dark earth 


284 


MERLE AND MAY 


hide thee! Thou hast no speculation in those eyes 
that thou dost glare with ! ’ ” finally quoted Merle 
in a sepulchral tone. 

May awoke from her trance, hastily added a few 
words to the work in hand, cleared her throat, and 
avoiding the gray eyes, said in an equivocal tone, — 

“ My dear, do you remember Holmes’ ‘ Latter Day 
Warnings ’ ? The poem begins — 

When legislators keep the law. 

When banks dispense with bolts and locks, 

When berries — whortle, ras}3, and straw — 

Grow bigger downwards through the box.’ ” 

“ I ought to remember it, seeing I recited it at 
our literary club.” 

‘‘ Your remark about the millennium tempted me 
to a little improvisation — listen : 

“ When Tommy gives up teaching law. 

And Blackey folds her lobster wing, 

\Vlien teachers swear off picking flaws. 

And now and then your praises sing; 

Wlien histories wipe out their dates. 

And French verbs conjugate alike; 

When no one re-ca-pit-u-lates — 

And muddles up what you had right; 


LILAC BUSHES 


285 


When sandwiches and cream-pufFs light 
Shall bring their merit to the proof, 

W^ithout a lie for every bite, 

Since nothing’s underneath their roof; 

WTien classmates bound with secret’s seal 
Don’t sell their friendship for a price; 

When all regard the concrete weal 
And monkey not with loaded dice; 

^Vllen spectres grim unsnare their net. 

When printed tests surprise no drills; 

W'dien questions never answered yet 
Affect no backs with thrilly chills; 

WHien pupils love to do just right, 

W’^hen lessons are an endless joy; 

When lobsters never melt from sight. 

And chlorine whales no more decoy; 

Till then must Norton blaze away. 

And studious saints revolve the globe. 

But when I see that blessed day — 

Then — order my ascension robe ! ” 

Perhaps some weary passer-by smiled infectiously 
as gales of merry girlish laughter issued from be- 
hind the group of lilac bushes. It seemed as much 
a part of nature’s joyousness as the many other 
sweet sounds that filled the morning air. A robin 


286 


MERLE AND MAY 


warbled ecstatically, baring his crimson breast to 
the sun’s dazzle as he tilted on the tip-top pinnacle 
of a feathery elm; a nuthatch, hungering for his 
breakfast, rapped stormily at the door of some 
frightened ant; a hummingbird, gorgeous in his 
iridescent beauty, poised a moment, and then fanned 
himself into a pollened chalice ; a cricket rasped his 
fiddle in a belated love ditty, and must have been 
very far gone indeed since he could not tell night 
from day; or was vying in the impetuosity of his 
love-making with the winged katydid who said such 
“ an undisputed thing in such a solemn way ” ? 

But over and above these sylvan sounds came the 
merry bursts of laughter that tempted one to brave 
the lilac’s screening and to peep beyond. There, 
two long figures stretched at full length on the 
shed roof were discerned. A mass of light hair at 
one end evidently bore some relation to a pair of 
feet that kicked in an ecstasy of mirth over the 
water-spout, but the face of this figure was hidden 
beneath an open book. The other form, topped with 
a mass of chestnut hair, at present was doing her 
best to swallow a handkerchief, and to judge from 
the color of one visible cheek, was succeeding 
admirably. 

Study, after this hilarious interlude, was out of 
the question; which the books evidently divined, for 


LILAC BUSHES 


287 


most of them had taken themselves off down the 
slant roof, and at present were recuperating under 
the bushes. 

“ Oh, May ! ” hiccoughed Merle, blowing her nose, 
wiping her eyes, and in general settling her ruffled 
person, “ oh. May ! if you ’d spent half the time on 
your lessons that you do in cutting up these monkey 
shines, you ’d be a brilliant scholar.” 

“ My dear, if the north wind should become 
southerly, we ’d have violets in January. I never 
could do things to order ; I have to ‘ gang my ain 
gait.’ When the English teacher says, ‘ Miss Nor- 
ton, was Jessica justified in her flight from the Jew, 
her father ? ’ my brain closes like a clam-shell. If 
it opens at all, it works mechanically like those katy- 
dids’ wings. It says, — 

^ Jessica was — 

“ ‘ Jessica was n’t — 

“ ‘ Jessica was — 

“ ‘ Jessica was n’t — ’ 

Then, if by any hook or crook it gets further, it 
says, ‘Would Miss Norton be justified in her flight 
from Baxter, the bore? ’ But, dear goddess, let us 
leave our pedagogic philosophy for the nonce, and 
do you set your Delphian oracle in order, and I will 
listen to its mutterings. Propose some lark, for 
I ’m getting so full of bottled-up spirits, if some one 


288 


MERLE AND MAY 


does n’t uncork me, there ’ll certainly be an 
explosion.” 

“ I was just thinking,” said Merle, “ I ’d like to 
get some of those lilacs over in the Patch to help 
decorate for visitors’ day. Bob would give me some 
of these, but he ’s always giving, and I hate to ask.” 

“ You don’t mean that handsome clump over by 
the ruined cellar, past the graveyard? ” 

“ Yes, some call it Brick Bottom. It ’s an old 
ruined estate, so I don’t think it would be called 
stealing.” 

“But it’s haunted — you certainly know that? 
There was a murder in the house, and the property 
fell into decline and has lain idle for years. It ’s 
handy to the graveyard too, wliich accounts for the 
rumor keeping alive.” 

“ You and I are too advanced in our studies to 
believe in ghouls, I hope ; but since you ’re thirsting 
for adventure a ghost or two might add a thrill to 
the occasion.” 

May chewed contemplatively on a piece of lovage, 
chalking a flying ghost on the shed roof while she 
balanced the possibilities of the adventure. It evi- 
dently offered something not down on the pro- 
gramme, for she turned an involuntary chuckle into 
a sneeze, and observed with a listless air : 

“ I read to the blind boy to-night, but Willard will 


LILAC BUSHES 


289 


call for me, and for lack of something better, we 
might meet at the graveyard entrance about a quar- 
ter past eight, and pass through to get your lilacs.” 

It was Saturday, and Merle spent her afternoon in 
hard work to equalize the morning’s waste, and after 
an early tea slipped down to the parlor to gain 
an hour or two at her beloved practising. She had 
not seen May since morning, but just before starting 
on her errand of mercy. May thrust in her head to 
give an admonitory reminder of the evening’s pro- 
gramme, and to inquire if Merle’s escort was engaged 
and her plans perfected. 

“ Yes, I saw Bob in his yard and called over to 
him. He said he ’d go and take a basket for the 
lilacs. Carry a wrap. May, the evening may be 
chilly.” 

May assured her goddess that she was well sup- 
plied with wraps, and with a mischievous grin which 
might have enlightened one less absorbed, she 
closed the door, winked through the keyhole, and 
betook herself off. 

Merle returned to her practising and wrestled with 
a stormy passage to such effect that no step was 
heard on the porch, no tinkling of the bell, no know- 
ledge of any near presence, till the door opened again 
and Bob stepped in. 

“ Bravo ! you do that mighty well. Merle.” 


200 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ You Ve been eavesdropping, sir ! ” 

“ Don’t rise ! let ’s try it together. You said the 
other night you were n’t ready, but you can’t make 
that excuse now, and it helps in a duet to put the 
parts together.” 

Merle demurred to no purpose. Soon the four 
hands flowed rhythmically over the sentient keys. 
Here and there the soft whisperings of the treble 
were answered sonorously by the bass, and then both 
blended in one harmonious whole. Up and down the 
keyboard the hands passed, crossed and recrossed, 
questioned and answered, till the theme lost itself in 
a subtle modulation, melting into a minor chord 
that floated in a whisper through the room. Merle 
clasped her hands across her breast, and turned an 
ecstatic face, a true St. Cecilia face, toward her com- 
panion. Her lips were parted, her cheeks were 
flushed, and her eyes were full of a strange light, as 
if she looked over and beyond the figure at her side. 

An indescribable wave of feeling swept over Bob, 
and his eyes sought Merle’s and held their glance. 
It was only an instant — but the instant was dyna- 
mic. In the gray eyes was questioning surprise, as 
if they had suddenly viewed a new Tree of Know- 
ledge and would fain know something of its fruit; 
in the brown eyes was written one word — one little 
word — old, yet ever sweetly new. 


LILAC BUSHES 


291 


Merle woke first, and rose with an abruptness 
that left the piano stool in a dizzy swirl, saying, — 

“My conscience ! it ’s past eight, — why did n’t we 
keep track of the time ! ” 

A brisk w^alk brought the delinquents to the ceme- 
tery, but no May or Willard was in waiting. 

“ Serves us right,” said Merle ; ‘‘ we ’ll have the 
pleasure of walking through this spooky place 
alone.” 

“ Two is company, I thought,” said Bob. 

“ But four is a crowd,” said Merle with a shiver, 
as she glanced from the grewsome tombstones to the 
darkened sky, quite forgetting that she was too ad- 
vanced in her studies to have unscientific shivers. 
The path soon narrowed and she started on ahead, 
braving her fears, and trying not to see the many 
suggestive shapes her fancy conjured. She had 
just turned a bend when a rift in the scurrying 
clouds brought a sudden flood of moonlight which 
fell on a draped statue, and brought it into startling 
relief. Merle gave a little gasp and skipped back to 
Bob’s side, and though his jolly laugh reassured her, 
the shock left her still more unnerved, and she was 
thankful when they left the cemetery and started 
across the fields that led to the ruined cellar and the 
group of lilacs. 

As they neared the spot, however, the story of its 


292 


MERLE AND MAY 


murder and the reputed ghosts that nightly walked 
there took sudden hold of Merle’s imagination, and 
her legs trembled beneath her. The walking was bad, 
rocky and somewhat boggy, and her sudden weakness 
added to the difficulty. 

Finally she stopped, intending to admit her fears 
and to urge return, when the clump of lilac bushes 
outlined themselves at so short a distance ahead that 
she took courage and stumbled along again. No 
word had been spoken for several moments, and she 
wondered if the story were in Bob’s mind, and if he 
too felt any alarm. She wanted to turn and question 
him and be reassured by his denial, but the treacher- 
ous walking made speech difficult, and the words died 
on her lips. 

She stumbled along, feeling unaccountably weak, 
but encouraging herself now and then with a glance 
at the nearing bushes. It had just occurred to her 
that if May and Willard were already there, they 
were within calling distance ; and she glanced up, 
feeling comfort in the thought of their near pres- 
ence, when a shrouded apparation with a death’s face 
floated out from the bushes and wavered in the 
path. 

Bob saw it at the same instant, and, man that he 
was, he felt his hair rise and the blood chill in his 
veins. While he stood rooted to the spot, the figure 


LILAC BUSHES 


293 


seemingly divided, and two shapes took the place 
of one. Robbed of all volition Bob stood numbed, 
when a suppressed giggle reached bis strained senses 
and woke him to a possible truth. 

“ May ! Willard ! ” be called in a dry voice, at 
which invocation the forms broke into a merry dance 
with much waving of draperies and many ghostly 
gestures. 

His fright over, Bob’s first conscious thought was 
for Merle. So quickly had it happened and so un- 
nerving had the moment been, that his mind had been 
swept of all but fright. He reached out now, ex- 
pecting to touch her at his side, but his hand swept 
the air, and no response answered his call. 

“Merle! Merle!” he cried, groping forward. A 
step, and he stumbled, — not a match could he find 
though he searched every pocket; then stooping he 
brushed his hand against a mass of hair, and knew 
that Merle had fainted. 

“ This is a healthy trick ! ” he cried savagely, as 
the ghosts, alarmed at his unanswered call to Merle, 
floated to the side of the fallen figure. “ Don’t offer 
apologies — clear out!” he continued, forgetting his 
manners to the one girl in his concern for the other. 
“ Don’t stand there gazing ; do something quick ! 
Get a lantern, and prepare Mrs. Norton.” 

May fled, speechless, stumbling over the rocky 


294 < 


MERLE AND MAY 


ground, terrified at the result of her joke, her white 
sheet billowing with the wind, while Willard kept 
pace at her side, too frightened to offer comfort. 

“ Merle ! Merle ! ” called Bob, chafing the cold 
hands and straining his eyes to peer through the 
darkness. “ Merle ! ” 

“ Yes,” came in a scarcely audible whisper. 

“ Oh, what can I do ! Wliat can I do ” 

“ I ’m — better — now.” 

“ The ground is too wet for you to lie there. Let 
me help you up — can you stand? ” questioned Bob, 
at his wits’ end. 

Merle struggled weakly to her feet, and stood 
dazed and trembling, glancing quickly around, as if 
looking for something she expected yet dreaded to 
see. 

“ It ’s all right,” comforted Bob, divining the 
situation at once. “ It ’s all right. It was only 
Willard and May dressed in sheets, with phosphorus 
smeared on their faces. There ’s nothing here, — 
don’t cry, there ’s a dear girl, but let us move on 
out of this damp, dark place. You ’ll feel better 
when you see a light. Don’t try to guide yourself — 
please lean on me. It ’s dark — no one will see — do 
you mind ? ” whispered Bob as he supported the 
weak, trembling figure with a strong arm. May 
goes too far in her jokes.” 


LILAC BUSHES 


295 


She did n’t think — she ’s so impetuous,” said 
Merle, excusingly; “and I wasn’t feeling well to- 
night or I should n’t have fainted.” 

“ Nevertheless, May ought to sober down, and not 
learn her lessons at too dear a price to others.” 

“Is — is it far.f^ ” faltered Merle, leaning heavily 
on her support. 

“ Are you faint again ? ” 

“ My — my wrist,” sobbed Merle. 

Bob reached out, touched a wet sleeve and drip- 
ping hand, and caught the fainting girl in his arms. 

“ Oh, Merle,” he whispered, caressing the un- 
conscious face with a frightened kiss, “ oh. Merle, — 
if you ’re hurt, — if they ’ve hurt you, — I never shall 
forgive them in all my life.” 

Bob stumbled along, cursing every false step that 
jarred his burden, and wondering what the culprits 
were doing that they did not return with the light. 

They were doing their best, those two, nevertheless, 
as they flew through the graveyard with flying 
sheets and ashen green faces, startling several loit- 
erers out of a year’s growth, and giving substantial 
foundation to the ghost stories which haunted that 
spot for years to come. 

They met midway, and the lantern served to show 
the serious cut of Merle’s wrist. An arm-chair was 
made with crossed hands, and Bob consented to 


296 


MERLE AND MAY 


share his burden for the better comfort of the in- 
jured one. May led, lighting the way with the 
lantern, her face pale as the fainting Merle’s, and 
her legs weak with repentance. 

Mrs. Norton’s sitting-room couch was in readi- 
ness, with towels, bandages, hot water, and brandy 
at hand; but one look at Merle made her distrust 
home remedies, and she said with quiet decision: 

“ Get the nearest physician at once.” 

His buggy soon careened round the corner, and 
May left her watch in the unlighted parlor and let 
him in, — certainly a startling usher in her ghostly 
guise, which she had not thought to remove. The 
doctor first stared, then smiled, and finally shook his 
head as if he had found a clue to the sudden call for 
professional help. 

‘‘ It ’s a bad gash, and she ’s lost a good deal of 
blood ; but the artery is not cut, and she ’ll be all 
right in a few days,” he said reassuringly, smoothing 
back the tangled hair and putting his ear to the in- 
valid’s chest. “ But I don’t quite like the heart 
action,” he continued after listening a moment. 
“ Has she had any sudden bad news, or a fright ? ” 

“ She has had a fright,” admitted Mrs. Norton, 
studiously keeping her eyes from looking at the 
sheeted figure at her side. 

‘‘ Ah, yes ; I see, I see,” said the doctor as he 


LILAC BUSHES 


297 


glanced from the spectre to his watch and felt for a 
flickering pulse. “Young people’s jokes sometimes 
turn out to be no joke, but rather serious. We’ll 
have to take a few stitches in this wrist; and with 
this unsteady little heart, we can’t use ether.” 
Merle opened her eyes at this, and her frightened 
glance swept their faces. She was quite undone, 
poor girl! with what she had already suffered, and 
the thought of further pain was terrifying. 

“ It will soon be over, dear,” said the doctor en- 
couragingly ; “ soon be over ! Be a brave girl.” 
May burst into a paroxysm of tears and was 
speedily shut out into the hall . Mrs. Norton moved 
quietly about, making all necessary preparations ; 
Bob, with lips as colorless as Merle’s own, seated him- 
self by the couch and firmly supported the wounded 
wrist for the doctor to operate on. 

“ Raise her a trifle ; that ’s better. Close your 
eyes, child, and remember it will soon be over.” 

One, two, three, stitches were taken in the slim 
little wrist, and no sound escaped the white lips; four 
stitches, five stitches, — still no sound, through drops 
of perspiration stood on Merle’s forehead, and the 
gray eyes were pathetic with pain. Six stitches, 
seven ! — “ Bravo ! it ’s over, — the brandy, quick ! ” 
said the doctor. 

Bob snatched the ready glass from Willard and 


298 


MERLE AND MAY 


held it to Merle’s lips, but his hand shook, and the 
observant doctor, without comment, relieved him. 
Moreover, as soon as Merle had swallowed it, he 
mixed another glass and was about to offer it to 
Bob when a sudden thud drew all eyes to the door. 

j\Iay had been standing there, stifling her sobs ; 
but every stitch that the needle had taken in Merle’s 
wrist had seemed like two in hers. She had sentenced 
herself to endure the sight as a penance for her 
thoughtlessness, and had withstood the strain until 
]\Ierle’s head dropped. Then suddenly the room 
spun round, and for the first time in her life May 
fainted ; but was quickly revived, thanks to her 
naturally strong constitution and the doctor’s ready 
dose of brandy. 

No word relative to the affair had been spoken 
among its chief actors since the house had been 
reached, but the strained atmosphere made itself felt 
at every turn. Bob left May’s restoration severely 
to her mother and Willard, devoting his attention 
entirely to Merle. 

Having made the sufferer comfortable for the 
night, the doctor left, promising to return in the 
morning. Merle had fallen into an exhausted sleep ; 
]\Iay sat bedewing a cup of very hot tea with very 
salt tears; Mrs. Norton moved cautiously about, low- 
ering lights and closing up for the night. 


LILAC BUSHES 


299 


‘‘ Remember, it is my privilege to be called if 
anything is needed,” said Bob ; “ promise me that.” 

‘‘ I gladly promise you. Bob. You have surely 
earned the privilege; but I think the worst is over. 
Good-night.” 

Bob left the room without looking in May’s direc- 
tion, and her tears flowed faster. In the hall he 
encountered Willard, who, after a moment of 
strained silence, held out his hand, saying: 

I ’ve been an ass ; I ought to have known better. 
I ’m thoroughly ashamed of myself ; if saying so 

would only help matters ” 

“ Unfortunately it does n’t,” said Bob coldly. 
“ I ’ll accept your apology, but I ’m not in the mood 
for hand-shaking to-night.” 

“ All right,” said Will resignedly ; “ I deserve it. 
You can’t blame me as much as I blame myself.” 
There was something in the tone that made Bob 
pause, and remind himself that he was — or should be 
— a gentleman. He turned back, said, “ Pardon me. 
Will ; I ’m a little overwrought, I think,” shook 
hands, and went out, leaving Will with tears in his 
eyes. 

That night’s work proved to be something more 
serious to Merle than an injured wrist. She had 
been looking and feeling poorly for some weeks. The 
increasing duties of school, together with the care 


300 


MERLE AND MAY 


of the little home, however cheerfully and dutifully 
its routine was accomplished, had plainly made too 
severe a draft on a constitution perfectly normal and 
healthful, but not backed with much reserve; conse- 
quently Merle suffered a slight breakdown and kept 
her room for days, — not seriously ill after the first, 
but simply submitting to nature’s ringing down of 
the curtain for rest between the acts. 

All would have been well if this autocratic nurse 
had kindly waited for the summer vacation which 
was nearing; but for a prospective graduate to find 
herself on her back just as the cramming season 
was at hand ; and for a budding author, not to men- 
tion a future virtuoso, to find her gifted hand in 
splints, required a meeker spirit than Merle’s to 
submit gracefully. 

The doctor had put his foot down hard on school 
and all its requirements, without the slightest 
thought of lifting even his heel; but the gray eyes 
had a faculty of lifting a great deal, and before the 
first week was over the good man was amazed to 
find himself consenting to the invalid’s continuing 
her studies at home. 

Mrs. Norton, prompted mostly by the generosity 
of an ever generous heart, but also by the wish to 
make amends for the work of her black sheep, fitted 
up the bride’s new room with the blue set, and the 


LILAC BUSHES 


301 


invalid was therein enthroned. A dainty bird’s-eggs- 
blue tea gown dropped apparently from the skies 
and filled the invalid’s cup to overflowing. No one 
was seen making it, no one knew anything about its 
purchase, and a surprising and questionable state of 
ignorance met all Merle’s queries. Perhaps the 
student’s lamp that had burned very late o’ nights in 
Mrs. Norton’s bedroom, and May’s account book 
wherein she made heroic balances with her allowance, 
might have whispered a clue or two. 

The chief culprit was at once forgiven ; for Merle’s 
first smile was for the penitent face that hung over 
hers with such dog-like pleading in the blue eyes 
that it would have taken a far harder heart than 
Merle’s to harbor blame. Many were the tears shed 
over the bandaged hand, — quiet tears that May sur- 
reptitiously wiped on the counterpane, on her dress 
sleeve, or on Pickles’ beloved head. 

Poor May! she drank deep from the cup of her 
own bitter brewing; and perhaps the unlooked-for 
results of an ill-starred prank cured her of her last 
girlish thoughtlessness. Her grief and penitence were 
so sincere that Mrs. Norton felt no mother’s heart 
could add to her burden, but instead wiped away 
her tears and kissed the trembling lips, thereby 
teaching her the beauty and help of forgiveness, — 
wise mother bear! not to discount the value of her 


302 


MERLE AND MAY 


warnings by pointing out the bee when her little 
cub had already felt its sting. 

Bob’s indignation held out longest, for he believed 
May to be mainly responsible for the affair; but 
even he unbent when she proved her devotion not only 
by constant and loving attendance upon the invalid, 
but tactfully made herself scarce on divers occasions 
when his presence had graced the invalid’s chamber. 
May accepted her return to favor humbly, and 
treated that gentleman with a respect never before 
observed in their relations. 

The doctor had no sooner been twisted round 
Merle’s finger than May established herself as book- 
bearer, and daily brought Merle her consignment of 
work. Others of her friends came out strong in 
this hour of need, and willing hands copied miles of 
blackboard work. Charming girlish notes mourned 
her absence, while those loquaciously inclined kept 
her posted on the vital gossip that spiced their small 
world. 

Merle was an easy and accomplished scholar, and 
she felt no doubt of her ability to continue her 
studies alone ; but to have your nuts cracked and the 
meat handed to you is one fact; to crack your nuts 
yourself, and in the bungling lose half the meat, is 
quite another. Bob — wise and disinterested young 
man! — saw this at once; and having just been over 


LILAC BUSHES 


303 


the ground kindly offered to crack all mental nuts and 
free the meats for the invalid’s better consumption. 

So it came about that Harvard saw much less of 
one of its sophomores, and a plain, brown-stooped 
house saw much more. To the casual observer it 
might have seemed to be the doctor, — this tall, broad- 
shouldered individual who so regularly made his 
scheduled call ; for he rang the bell like a privileged 
person, stalked down the hall and through the sit- 
ting-room into the invalid’s room without even so 
much as “ by-your-leave,” tossed down his bag and 
hat and ulster, and, turning, took a very slim little 
hand in his own and held it long enough to count a 
dozen pulses. Then he kept a sharp eye out for 
draughts from doors and windows, and learned to ma- 
nipulate shawls and pillows with really feminine skill. 
A most assiduous doctor this, for he seldom came 
without some token of his well-wishing; usually flow- 
ers which were evidently a bitter draught to his over- 
drugged patient, for she demurred and blushed and 
waved them away, and ended — by drinking deep of 
their fragrance. 

There the doctor’s role ended and the pedagogue’s 
began. A second rocker was drawn near to the 
first, — very near, — which of course was necessary 
where one book was being shared ; and then the 
tutor skilfully put the blue-robed invalid through a 


304 


MERLE AND MAY 


course of mental sprouts. Historical facts became 
wonderfully easy to remember when a strong hand 
wrote them out ; chemical symbols lost much of 
their obtuseness when a pair of eloquent eyes as- 
sisted in their committal ; even geometrical obscurities 
melted like mist before the sun, rhomboids, cylin- 
ders, and prisms developing surprising beauties 
never before observed in their outline. 

Merle took kindly to her convalescence after the 
first pain was over, finding the bride’s room, the 
blue gown, the unwearying devotion of May and Mrs. 
Norton, the affectionate anxiety of her father, the 
unflagging interest of her tutor, and the solicitations 
of her many friends — all sweet, strangely sweet ; yet 
she wondered how much of the harvest was re ally 
from her own planting. She had grown humble. 

Later, when the ban for quiet was removed, the 
well-wishing of friends took place in person, and 
on one day in particular Merle held quite a re- 
ception in the bride’s chamber. Something in the 
weather must have tempted the visitors forth, for 
May found her post as door-tender almost as arduous 
as on the night of the famous Flapjack Party. 

The stylish Miss Weston, who as before-mentioned 
had made Merle the gift of her music course, upset 
the quiet neighborhood by dashing down its narrow 
street behind a pair of champing bays. She tripped 


LILAC BUSHES 


305 


up the plain wooden steps as daintily as if they were 
of marble, thereby displaying a set of marvellously 
ruffled petticoats for Bridget’s edification, — Bridget 
being ensconced in the basement window behind the 
rubber plant. She must have made something more 
than a perfunctory call, for Mrs. Hall, the next- 
door neighbor, could have told you that the carriage 
passed and repassed sixteen times to a count, — for 
did n’t it tally with the coachman’s buttons ? 

Mrs. Bendonsa, rigid in her Sunday best, with the 
four little Bendonsas scrubbed and combed to per- 
fection, pulled shyly at the bell, but forgot her shy- 
ness in the cordial clasp of a thin little hand, and 
was almost startled into telling her beads again as 
she looked up at the tall madonna-like girl in the 
flowing go™. 

The Captain, who had just returned alone from a 
journey, broke the taboo of his own establishing; 
for he mounted the steps in his tall silk beaver, and 
rapped vigorously at the door with his cane, the bell 
evidently escaping him. Such a wave of excitement 
as swept over the inmates within ! but May cooled 
her ire in time to greet him with respect; Mrs. Nor- 
ton shook hands cordially, too much of a lady to 
show discourtesy to a guest ; while Merle clearly sur- 
prised the dignified Captain, for she rose to her full 
height with the grace of a queen, and extended her 


20 


306 


MERLE AND MAY 


hand as if well aware of the value of the privilege she 
conferred. 

Classmates and friends all seemed impelled to 
leave their cards on the day in question, bringing 
dainties for the invalid’s consumption, or the sea- 
son’s flowers to fill the table and overflow to the 
mantel. 

By night Merle was quite exhausted by these so- 
cial honors, and her nerves were in a decidedly hys- 
terical condition. Yet more remained, for as the 
afternoon had failed of her tutor’s presence, the 
evening supplied it. 

Merle left the bride’s room for some reason best 
known to herself, decorated the sitting-room with her 
many flowers, stirred the open grate into glowing 
life, for though warm outside, the house had a chill 
undesirable for the invalid, and drawing up the 
lounging chair, buried herself in its cushions to 
await her tutor. 

She had never disappointed him In her lessons, but 
to-night the task seemed beyond her and she begged 
release. So it came about that the student’s lamp 
shed its soft light over a magazine instead of a text- 
book, and Bob ‘‘ shook ” the role of tutor and be- 
came an invalid’s reader. 

Merle lay luxuriously amidst her cushions, with the 
shadows from the flickering fire playing hide-and- 


LILAC BUSHES 


307 


seek in the folds of her blue gown and the waves of 
her chestnut hair. Her mind rehearsed the after- 
noon’s surprises and pleasures as her glance rested 
on the pretty gown, on the glowing fire, on the 
groups of flowers that bespoke forethought and con- 
sideration for her, even to the kind companion at 
her side on whom her eyes rested last. 

It was her one wish to be loved, and to-day had 
proved to her as never before how much she had 
gained in overcoming her false pride, in opening up 
her plain little home, and in making friends for 
friendship’s sake, with no thought of social position 
or contrast. Her eyes filled and the tears streamed 
down her cheeks as the reader’s voice rose and fell 
on unheeding ears. Perhaps Bob felt the lack of 
interest in his 'audience, for he glanced up inquiringly 
just in time to meet the glistening eyes turned full 
upon him. 

Bob dropped his book on the table, himself on the 
hassock, and in a voice sympathetic enough to solace 
one far more afflicted, inquired what was the matter. 

‘‘ Nothing,” said Merle, contradicting her an- 
swer with increased sobs. 

“ There must be something, my dear ; — what have 
I done to wound you ? ” 

“ I — I — was only thinking how lovely it is to — 
to have so many friends,” sobbed Merle, 


308 


MERLE AND MAY 


pointing with a wave of her hand to her many gifts 
and flowers. 

However surprising her cause of tears to the male 
breast, Bob behaved with the greatest presence of 
mind, offered his handkerchief, seeing Merle grope 
for hers, rearranged the shawl over her shoulders, 
and, forgetting to remove his hand, supplemented 
it with the other, and suddenly drawing the slender 
figure to him, patted the weeper comfortingly on the 
back. 

Oh, don’t — please don’t — I ’m such a simpleton,” 
murmured Merle, trying to struggle back to her pil- 
lows, but not succeeding. “ I — guess I — I ’ve had 
too much — too much company — and — and ” 

Bob admitted that she probably had had too much 
company, though he showed no impulse to remove the 
immediate guest, and after an introspective pause 
even found himself hard enough of heart to wish that 
Merle’s friends w'ould occasionally unnerve her with 
their devotion if only the restoration were left to 
him. 

With a view to effect, I ought to say, perhaps, 
that Merle nestled back in her pillows, pale, tear- 
stained, and beautiful, but facts constrain me to ad- 
mit that our heroine’s eyes were quite red, likewise 
her classic nose, to say nothing of its being a trifle 
swollen and decidedly shiny. 


LILAC BUSHES 


309 


What the next step in this melodrama would have 
been is hard to say, if, as Bob glanced up, his eyes 
had not lighted on a slim figure silhouetted against 
the bedroom gloom. May it was who stood glued to 
the threshold, unable alike to retreat or to advance ; 
for the sight of her reserved and dignified goddess 
actually weeping on a male breast robbed her of 
her breath, her tact, her abundant common-sense. 

Her encounter with Bob’s eyes broke the spell, 
however, and she dashed into the room and, with a 
relapse into the carelessness that she had been try- 
ing to conquer, stumbled over Roy’s engine, bumped 
into the lounge, and nearly sent the student lamp 
into the open grate as she leaned over the table and 
turned on a flood of gaslight that rivalled noonday 
and scattered romance to the four winds. 

No slightest allusion was ever made to this inter- 
esting domestic tableau by its dramatis person®, but 
Merle remembered it, being somewhat disturbed by 
the new set of emotions that the moment had awak- 
ened, and suddenly dismissing her tutor, reassumed 
her role as Mentor, and returned to school. 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 

The Hall of Fame had opened its doors hospitably 
this glorious June morning while its revered works 
of art, its caryatides, and its Philosophers of the 
Ancient School looked down condescendingly on 
the eager motley throng that filled each settee to the 
point of discomfort, and overflowed to the aisles and 
window ledges. 

Prouu mammas, arrayed in their best bibs and 
tucker^^ with the happy light of realized hope in 
their tired eyes, and each with the conscious thought 
that her beniffled, beflowered, white-robed darling 
would be quite the flower of the bunch, smiled amica- 
bly into one another ’s faces, in sympathy with all 
motherhood. 

Bald-headed papas — no less proud — sat wedged 
in between billows of frills and furbelows, endured 
the agony of starched fronts and saw-edged collars 
and the sure prospect of a three-hours martydom. 


310 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


311 


cheerfully contributing their presence in conformity 
with the tenets of a well-regulated society. 

Uncles, aunts, and cousins were out in force, all 
in their Sunday best, as proof positive of the social 
scale to which the honored one belonged; while a 
goodly sprinkling of young males formed the back- 
ground to this human bouquet, and bid fair to be 
much in evidence later on. 

June roses blossomed from every nook and cranny, 
making the air heavy with their spiced perfume; 
ponderous tomes reposed on the master’s desk, — this 
master who for three long years had taught this 
young idea how to shoot ; baskets of rolled and pink- 
bowed diplomas graced the platform front — those 
]\Ieccas of Endeavor toward which hundreds had 
trodden a long and weary way ; semi-circles of chairs 
further graced this platform, tantalizingly sugges- 
tive in their emptiness of the sweet girl graduates 
that were to be. 

Now and then some darling of the hour flitted in 
and out, not so quickly but that a pretty color 
mounted to her conscious cheek as a wave of ex- 
pectancy turned all faces admiringly in her 
direction. 

Reasonably near the front was a settee containing 
a group that obviously held one interest in common. 
There was an old, white-haired, white-kerchiefed lady 


312 


MERLE AND MAY 


who seemed much in evidence because of a golden- 
haired laddie who sat astride her lap, and just at 
present was poking his tan shoes through the spokes 
of the opposite settee into the back of its much-en- 
during occupant. Beside her sat a light-haired, 
blue-eyed witch of a girl, who had evidently done her 
best to subdue a generally fly-away look to her per- 
son with small success. Next came a sweet, matronly 
woman in black, who divided her attention between 
a white-haired, venerable looking man at her side 
and a tall young man who flanked the settee’s end. 

“ They ’re coming ! I saw the line when the door 
swung back ! ” whispered May shrilly ; and before 
she had time to compose her excited person, the doors 
in truth swung back, and the day’s exercises began. 

They wavered an instant, this grouping of sweet, 
budding womanhood just on the threshold of the 
fuller life to come, and then the long, white, di- 
aphanous line undulated gracefully into motion. 

“ She ’s the fourth! ” volunteered the locutor, with 
difficulty keeping her seat. 

She was the fourth, in height, not scholarship ; and 
perhaps eyes, other than those eager ones, found 
something in the tall, graceful girl that riveted their 
attention. For Merle was blessed with that inde- 
scribable quality which we call “ charm.” You saw 
it in the curve of her throat, in the poise of her 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


313 


head, in the waves of her hair, in the soft folds of 
the dotted muslin. Nothing detracted from the 
pleasure of your glance ; not a trinket, not a flower ; 
nothing marred the perfect curves of her slim 
maidenly flgure. 

‘‘ Ganny ” wiped her glasses and looked twice, but 
doing her best to show no sign of conscious pride. 
Mrs. Norton’s eyes followed the tall, slender flgure 
from its entrance to its seat on the platform, and 
her eyes saw much behind the scenes. They saw 
the patient stitches a weak little hand had put into 
the dotted muslin that looked so innocent of the 
effort it had cost its mistress ; they saw the home 
these same patient little hands had tried to make for 
the white-haired Philosopher at her own side — this 
white-haired Philosopher who was suddenly attacked 
with surprisingly weak eyes considering the short- 
ness of distance, and who, after making several at- 
tempts to accustom them to the strain, blew his nose 
quite savagely and devoted his attention to the pro- 
gramme. They saw, these kindly eyes, the praise- 
worthy endeavor that had overridden illness and 
passed examinations with honor ; they saw the sweet 
face flushed with excitement and eagerness, but 
modest and unconscious ; they and others, too, 
saw her break the line, and with a pretty deference 
step aside to let a teacher pass ; they saw her give 


314 


MERLE AND MAY 


an encouraging squeeze to the hand of a trembling 
comrade about to taste the bitter-sweet of a public 
declamation ; and, finally, they saw her file modestly 
into the second row and efface herself, when her place 
was rightfully in the front. 

This last effacement completely upset May — poor 
May! who was in a treacherously emotional state; for 
she sniffed audibly, and was just swallowing an hys- 
terical gulp, when Roy upset them all by exclaiming 
in a loud voice of baby-glee, as he pointed a wet fin- 
ger in a w^avering direction : 

“ Dar — dar ’s my dear Mer-Mer I ” 

‘‘ She ’s the handsomest one in the class 1 ” said 
May, recovering herself with a superior sniff of her 
freckled nose at the plain Misses So and So that 
followed, and a tall young man that flanked the set- 
tee’s end pulled up his trouser-legs for the preserva- 
tion of their crease, and pulled down his cuffs to 
afford an ampler view of immaculate linen, and 
smiled into the merry blue eyes with lips that spoke 
no denial. 

The honor of representing her class in physics had 
been offered to Merle, for, by some curious trick of 
the brain or by inheritance, she excelled in this study, 
though her natural tastes inclined her in a dia- 
metrically opposite direction ; but her illness had 
made unnecessary effort seem unwise, and reluctantly 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


S15 


(for she was human and loved to shine) she had 
passed on the distinction. 

Each subject was represented by the paragon of 
the class, and learned papers that had cost hours of 
midnight oil were read in trembling voices that fell 
for the most part on unintelligent ears. Fortunate 
it was for the audience that the charm of the ex- 
positor somewhat beguiled the tedium of her dis- 
course, though fans hid many yawns, and the 
younger element writhed in misery. 

The singing was the one redeeming feature, for 
the class had been well trained, and their clear voices 
rose in unison or blended in harmony with surprising 
sweetness. All could enjoy this, all could feel the 
poetry of those sweet-singing white-robed young 
girls, pausing a moment between the bud and the 
sweeter and fuller flower of womanhood. 

‘‘ Consider and hear me, O Lord, my God,” rose 
reverently from many throats and floated off on the 
rose-laden air, filling eyes that were unused to such 
softening, and making a bond of sympathy between 
the irascible, bald-headed old man who sneezed and 
looked savagely at the windows for signs of 
draughts, and 'some round-shouldered little seam- 
stress who wept to her heart’s content in an unob- 
trusive corner, giving thanks out of a full heart for 
the beautiful consummation of her life’s work in 


316 


MERLE AND MAY 

tlie graduation of a dear sister’s child whom she had 
mothered for patient years. 

Prosy and stereotyped speeches followed from those 
gate-tenders of pedagogic advancement, those ven- 
erables of the past, whose slow shelving was lightened 
by this annual airing. Too long, too dismal, too 
admonitory were all but one, a little man who hustled 
on the stage, and what was far more to the purpose, 
hustled off before his long-enduring audience felt 
like stoning him. 

He did not tell them, this brisk little man, that 
they were tottering on the brink of stern reality, and 
that all the joys and sweets of youth were gone 
forever. Instead, he made each girl graduate feel 
the beauty of the fuller life that was unquestionably 
hers, a life that each, year would make richer, for 
only the low price of steady endeavor. 

Though Merle had effaced herself physically and 
mentally, her hour of reckoning came with the distri- 
bution of the diplomas; for then, no matter how suc- 
cessful a disciplinarian the master may be, the class 
will show its preference, and the favorites in this or 
that particular receive a public demonstration. 

Many favorites had already received their ova- 
tion ; many hands were sore from clapping ; and much 
of the audience was growing restless. Merle’s di- 
ploma was nearly the last, but as the guest of the 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


317 


occasion turned over its coil, pushed the bow off 
its inscription, and read “ Merle Royce Elliot ” such 
a thunder of applause rose that the caryatides and 
the venerable busts shook on their pedestals, and the 
roses trembled on their stems. 

The audience must have caught the infection, if 
not impelled by the charm of this bit of girlhood, for 
they stamped and thumped their canes, and clapped 
their hands, while a merry blue-eyed girl and a 
tall brown-eyed young man might have been sup- 
posed to be on the verge of an apoplectic fit. 

Merle bowed over the proffered diploma with the 
grace that had once so nearly upset the dignified 
Captain, and now quite upset the white-haired dispen- 
ser of diplomas, for he held on to his end far longer 
than occasion demanded, and deepened the color in 
the cheeks of this sweet girl graduate. 

Soon the curtain fell, and in a twinkling the halls 
sw^armed with these distinguished young participants 
of the day’s exercises, each labelled with a pink- 
bowed diploma, which the most careless hugged with 
zealous care. Through the various rooms they es- 
corted their guests, each making mental notes on the 
strength and style of the other’s following, and ex- 
plaining learnedly the while the many exhibits of the 
year’s work, intending to strike awe (and succeed- 
ing) by the depth and vastness of their learning. 


318 


MERLE AND MAY 

Merle was in great demand, and with difficulty did 
the honors to her guests; for her photographs and 
autographs were urgently solicited, and she was 
constantly being whisked off and taken possession 
of by admiring groups. 

There was to be a dance in the evening to assuage 
the anguish of good-byes, and most of the girls had 
plans for the afternoon. Merle was to go for a 
drive, as the day was perfect, and Bob still clung to 
the role of doctor. She felt very grand as she 
bowled along in a luxuriously upholstered carriage 
behind a prancing chestnut ; indeed she was quite in- 
toxicated with the elixir life was offering her of 
late, and drank deep of its inspiration. Life was 
very full and rich just now to the fair young maiden, 
and the future promised to be still fuller and 
richer. 

A marvellous flow of conversation outdid the day 
in brilliancy, — a conversation that one at least took 
pains should not lag; for beneath this surface glit- 
ter and ripple was an undercurrent of feeling that 
kept the gray eyes for the most part on the scenery ; 
or when, as occasionally happened, they were un- 
avoidably surprised, they were veiled quickly. 

The day’s glories ended in a dance given in the 
High School building. IMerle donned her dotted 
muslin for the second time in a flutter of excitement. 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


319 


for she had never danced with Bob, and to-night, 
thanks to her basement drill, she would prove to that 
young gentleman that her graces and accomplish- 
ments were on a par with any normal girl. 

Her cheeks burned and her eyes flashed, for how 
could she look like a meek little Quaker when she 
had the most personable following of males in the 
hall, and her dances were fairly gobbled off her 
card ? 

There was Bob, positively stunning in his full- 
dress suit, and with such grace of manner that he 
disarmed the most critical; and there was Willard, 
frank and cordial; each with a following of closest 
friends; to say nothing of Frank, who, it was well 
known, had already been singed at the goddess’ 
shrine, nor of Bob’s cousin Will, most opportunely 
returned from Amherst in time to snatch a dance 
or two. 

Yes, in spite of the day’s intoxication. Merle had 
found time to breathe a little girlish prayer for help 
to enable her to merit all these pleasures by giving 
thought and consideration to others. The verse in 
her album was unconsciously doing good ; it was 
often on her lips, and its sentiment was growing in 
her heart — 

“ Is she kind as she is fair? 

For beauty lives with kindness.’* 


320 


MERLE AND MAY 


Your pleasure, not mine, became her motto 
for the evening, and surprisingly easy it was to live 
up to it, when she had once made the resolve to smile 
pleasantly on those less popular than herself, though 
indifferent oversight had been her first impulse; to 
share her partners generously ; to beguile wall-flow- 
ers into animated groups ; to smile approval on May, 
who was outdoing herself in decorum for her god- 
dess’ sake; and to accept the many attentions offered 
her with a graciousness that spoke no surfeit. Yet 
this endeavor that nestled in her heart did not cool 
the flush of her cheek, nor dim the sparkle of her 
eye ; but it may, perhaps, have accounted for some 
serious sweetness that her partners unconsciously 
felt — a sweetness that lay deeper than the mere sur- 
face prettiness of her face. 

As for Bob, he deported himself with great credit 
considering the conflict of emotions he underwent 
when a small white gloved hand rested in his own, and 
a chestnut head became so fascinating in its nearness 
that he had no eyes left for the very necessary art 
of steering. In short, after one or two breathless 
encounters, when he had come fatally near upsetting 
his dignified mentor through his own stupidity. Bob 
skilfully laid the blame on the wanton mob, and 
proposed that they cool off in a saunter in the outer 
corridor. Merle agreed, and silently made its 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


321 


detour on the arm of her distinguished, black- 
f rocked knight. Suddenly she paused as if some 
thought had taken definite form in her mind, and 
said shyly : 

“ Bob, I ’ve a favor to ask.” 

“ A thousand, and I ’m at your service.” 

“ No, don’t promise so rashly, — it may be very 
disagreeable to you ; and perhaps I ought not to 
suggest it, but — it sounds silly I know — but, you see 
I want to be kind to every one to-night — and — are 
you laughing ? ” 

“Do I look it.?” 

Bob did n’t look it, but he evidently looked some- 
thing else, for Merle quickly turned her glance to 
the case of minerals they were passing, and con- 
tinued : 

“ There ’s Miss Bond over in the corner, — we ’ve 
passed her several times, — she ’s colored — though not 
very dark, as you see ; but she ’s a nice girl, very 
bright, and a great favorite with the master. They 
call her Sir Tom’s ‘ chocolate drop.’ She came to- 
night, not quite realizing what it would be like, per- 
haps, and I suspect she ’s had a horrid time. I ’ve 
watched her all the evening, and she has n’t danced 
once. She is n’t darker than many an Italian, and 
— and if you would only dance with her once, all the 
others would follow, and 


21 


322 


MERLE AND MAY 


Merle paused for breath, quite frightened at her 
request now that it was exposed to the bold glare of 
spoken words, and looked appealingly at her com- 
panion. Bob stopped walking, pulled down his 
vest, buttoned and unbottoned his gloves thought- 
fully, and then suddenly squared his shoulders and 
said determinedly. 

“ Telemachus bows to his Mentor.” 

“Willingly, Bob?” 

“ Willingly, Merle.” 

Merle took his arm with a smile of approval that 
made the walk between the mineral cabinet and Sir 
Tom’s “ chocolate drop ” a path strewn with am- 
brosia, and presented him to Miss Bond without the 
slightest trace of condescension. 

When Bob gallantly escorted his new partner into 
the Hall of Fame there was a flutter of well-bred ex- 
citement ; but he, perhaps better than any other, 
could take the initiative tactfully, and make it easy 
for those he forced to follow in his wake. For 
Merle’s entire following was drafted, and that night 
became a memorable one to Miss Bond. 

It was late, unreasonably late, when the musicians 
ambered their fiddles for the last time and laid them 
snugly in their cases ; yet the hall, the corridors, and 
the dressing-rooms were swarming with white-winged 
girls. It seemed hard to leave — many would not re- 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


3^23 


turn for the advanced term — hard to leave the dear 
old spot which three years of serious work and some 
frolics had made to most their vital world. 

There were many limp handkerchiefs and red 
eyes ; many roses crushed in impetuous hugs, many 
eternal friendships vowed and sealed ; many whispered 
hopes • and plans confided ; many autographs and 
photographs exchanged ; many fat beribboned and 
sealed envelopes bestowed on the popular ones, pro- 
phetic of the coming years, with the day, the hour, the 
minute of their opening defined; many clubs forced 
into mushroom growth by those who felt that the 
progress of the world would be retarded by the 
scattering of their intellectual forces; while each 
and all and every one vowed life-long loyalty to her 
Alma Mater, and smiled consciously at the crowning 
dignity of being at last a full-fledged alumna. 

Merle had wept her little weep, had whispered her 
last good-bye, and had been bowled along the cobbled 
streets in a coach and pair ; for the young man at her 
side would not suffer the indignity of a street-car on 
this day of days, and in secret took sly satisfaction 
in this outwitting of his Mentor, who had cruelly put 
her foot down hard on suggestions of a graduation 
gift. 

Mrs. Norton’s front hall had just been relieved of 
tvro lingering incumbents when a coach swept up 


324 


MERLE AND MAY 


to the door, and in a twinkling its quiet was broken 
by this second pair. 

“ Oh, Bob, what a cup of joy has been held to my 
lips to-day ! ” said Merle brightly, as she shook a 
stray curl from her eyes which her “ cloud ” had dis- 
hevelled, and turned to say good-night. A full 
cup, pressed down and running over ! ” 

“Not so full as that; let there be room for 
something more,” whispered Bob, his hands lingering 
as he unfolded the shawl from the soft muslin dress, 
and leaned very near to catch the girl’s answer. 

“Not another drop!” laughed Merle nervously, 
with a wave of her pretty bare arms. “ With Portia 
I shall say — 

“‘In measure rain thy joy; scant this excess; 

I fear too much thy blessing; make it less, 

For fear I surfeit.* ’* 

“ Say the whole passage, dear : 

“ ‘ Oh love, be moderate ! allay thy ecstasy ; 

In measure rain thy joy; scant 

“ That is n’t the passage I mean — that is — it — it 
does n’t matter — there ’s a dreadful draught here.” 

“ Let me put on your shawl again, then. Listen ! 
Every one has had some privilege from you to-day, 
do I alone go begging? I saw Mrs. Norton kiss you. 
May kiss you, a dozen girls kiss you, and yet when 


THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE 


S25 


I held out my hand for congratulations, you sped 
across the hall.” 

“ Somebody wanted me.” 

“ Somebody wants you now. Look at me, you 
witch! Why do you avoid me? ” 

“ I — why — really — truly — see,” said the dissem- 
bler with pretty, artless abandon , — ‘‘ see, there ’s my 
hand to disprove it.” 

Bob took it in both his own, glanced down at the 
sweet, sensitive face, wavered an instant, and then as 
if mastering some further impulse, raised the little 
hand to his lips. 

“ Good-night, my ]\Ientor.” 

“ Good — good-night.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


CANOEING 

“ * One, I love — 

Two, I love — 

Three, I love the same — 

Four, I love with all my heart 

The deep fringed valance of a luxurious hammock 
swept gracefully to and fro, fanned into motion, 
seemingly, by some force other than the gentlest of 
summer zephyrs. In truth the pendulum-like touches 
of a small black foot accounted for its motion, for 
a pink-robed Vandal reclined among its cushions. 

A despoiler of nature, this pink-robed Vandal, for 
her dress was flecked wuth daisy petals and the ground 
strewn with their discarded hearts. Now and then 
the white fingers paused in their prophetic work, and 
a pair of gray eyes peered apprehensively through 
the meshes of the hammock, and on through the in- 
terstices of the closely screening shrubbery that en- 
sconced her. Then the incompleted talisman 


326 


CANOEING 


327 


drooped in her hand, while this dreamy Vandal drank 
in the beauty of the fleecy sky, the rustling leaves, 
the song of the birds busy in their housekeeping, 
drank in the fragrance of the summer air rich with 
the incense a myriad blooms had offered up at na- 
ture’s shrine. 

Her last search had been rewarded by no nearer 
presence than that of a small chipmunk who sat 
trimming his whiskers on a swaying branch ; and 
IMerle, oblivious to what the tree-trunk hid, set her 
fears at rest, her hammock in motion, and returned 
to her fortune-telling. 

Let me see, I left off at four: 

“ ‘ Five, I cast away — 

Six, he loves — 

Seven, she loves — 

Eight, they both love — 

Nine, he comes 

‘‘ Nine, he comes ! ” echoed a manly voice. 
‘‘Mercy, Bob! how you frightened me!” 

“ A thousand pardons I but don’t let me interrupt. 
Go on wuth your fairy work.” 

“ Wanton work, you mean, just busy idleness. 
Does that sound paradoxical?” 

“ Finish the daisy, please.” 


328 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I ’ve finished enough already, I should think,” 
laughed INIerle, as she gathered a handful of white 
petals and showered the intruder. 

The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra-la, have 
something to do with this case. Where ’s the rest 
of that fortune-telling daisy?” 

It was a winged messenger, and flew away when 
your unhallowed feet touched this holy ground.” 

“It flew no higher than the grass, deceitful one! 
for I saw it drop — here, finish it.” 

“ Mv stint is done.” 

“ Then must I finish for myself, cruel — not an 
arduous task, for but two are left. ‘ Nine, he 
comes,’ we said ; ‘ ten, he tarries, eleven, he courts 1 ’ 
Wise flower, I salute thee 1 ” said Bob, touching the 
yellow heart with his lips. 

“ I think this glorious weather affects you,” said 
Merle mischievously. “ It does affect poets, and I 
don’t know why it should n’t ” 

“ Lovers ! don’t let the word trip you, lady, it ’s 
a role I long to act.” 

“ I ’ve lain here, idling, for an hour,” said Merle 
with intentional irrelevance. “ It ’s so heavenly 
looking up through these trees into the blue sky. 
I ’m glad I live.” 

“ So am I. When I go out these glorious 
mornings I feel like Atlas, strong to brace my 


CANOEING 


329 


shoulders for any load the world may see fit to 
impose.” 

“ If I don’t brace mine quickly, they ’ll not be 
strong enough to hold me. In physiology we learn 
that disuse leads to atrophy. But I promised to 
drift for a few weeks, and drift I did. Perhaps it ’s 
just as well, if I don’t get too confirmed in lazi- 
ness, for now Della’s home she shares the 
work, and I ’m taking quite kindly to the role of 
second fiddle ; it ’s really easy if you keep your mind 
off the first. My music I confess I miss; as for 
the scribbhng, rest may be beneficial there, for it 
is said that ‘ Observation is nine points of 
composition.’ ” 

“ Be sure of that ! Experience is also a wise 
teacher, and every colt needs pasture for 

development.” 

“ But every colt does n’t get it so richly as I do,” 
said Merle nervously. “ I have not thanked you ; 
but of course I know who is at the bottom of this 
camping out.” 

“ And I have not thanked you for giving in and 
coming; though why you held off ” 

“ It will do Mrs. Norton and father so much good,” 
interrupted Merle, “ and Roy and Grace too ; and 
we’ll be a jolly crowd if May doesn’t get drowned 
or chewed up.” 


330 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I ’ve heard you say all that before, but never 
that it would give you pleasure. I did n’t plan on 
making it a duty for you ; is it ? ” asked Bob 
earnestly. 

“A duty.^^ how absurd! Of course not; cela va 
sans dire. But please excuse me while I run up to 
the house and get my sewing or a book ; I ought 
not to idle away this glorious day.” 

“ It ’s a role that you fill to perfection, which should 
redeem it enough for you to keep it up a little longer. 
And you don’t need to go for a book ; I have two 
volumes of Shakespeare in my pocket ; he should be 
sufficiently refreshing for your literary thirst.- 
Which will you have — the lovers in the Forest of 
Arden, or the balcony scene between Romeo and 
Juliet.? ” 

“ Neither — I dislike extracts.” 

“ Why, I thought you were particularly fond of 
them ; you ’re always quoting.” 

I don’t feel in the mood to-day.” 

Then I ’ll begin at the beginning — which play 
please.? ” 

“ Choose yourself. I know both by heart.” 
“Poor surfeited darling! she sha’n’t be bored. 
Unfortunately that exhausts my resources for en- 
tertainment, so let ’s talk.” 

“ Talk away.” 


CANOEING 


331 


“ Charming day, is n’t it? ” 

“ Charming ! ” 

“ Do you remember where Lorenzo says : ‘ In such 
a night did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well ’ ? 
One could be pardoned for paraphrasing it and say- 
ing : ‘ In such a day did ’ ” 

“ Oh no ! daylight is far too garish for love; every 
true poet feels that.” 

“ Not every poet. Don’t you recall what Keats 
says ? ” 

“ Mercy ! are you preparing to write a love 
story ? ” 

“ No, only to act one. Will you help. Merle? ” 

“ Do you notice how high the sun is getting? It 
must be near noon, which means lunch. What time 
is it, please ? ” 

“ Never mind the time. Won^t you answer me? ” 
‘‘ But I do mind the time. Della is always so an- 
noyed when I come to the table late. I really 
must go.” 

“ Just a moment, please. How about that debt? ” 
“ Debt?” 

“ Yes ; debt.” 

“ I don’t know what you are talking about,” re- 
sponded Merle with vast surprise.” 

“ Then let me explain, dear.” 

“ Oh, no ; please don’t. Explanations are as 


332 


MERLE AND MAY 


‘ odious ’ as comparisons. Hark ! I hear some one 
coming ; oh, good ! it ’s May.” 

It was May, whistling merrily and thrashing the 
underbrush, for, ever since that touching tableau 
made memorable by her untimely entrance upon the 
scene, she had taken great pains never to surprise 
this pair again. 

She wondered somewhat at the very cordial greet- 
ing that she received from her goddess, but seemed 
to be quite unconscious of any atmospheric disturb- 
ances that her presence might have occasioned or 
relieved; though her eyes glanced amusedly from a 
very pink goddess to a very rapt young man, who 
was studying the distant landscape with great as- 
siduity. May was learning something. 

“ Where on earth have you kept yourself all the 
morning. Merle? I thought you were going to sew,” 
she said. 

“ So I was, but I came here without my work 
and ” 

“ And I interrupted her ; and my shoulders are 
broad enough,” said Bob ; “ they can stand the 
blame.” 

‘‘ Willard says we must go out on the river this 
afternoon ; he told me to tell Merle it would be ‘ pro- 
fanation’ to lose such a day. (He thought the ele- 
gance of his phrasing would appeal to you, dear.) 


CANOEING 


333 


It won’t be much work to launch the canoes again, 
even though they are ready for shipping. Anyway, 
he said he ’d more than willingly do the work if you ’d 
all go.” 

“ I second the proposition with all my heart,” said 
Bob eagerly. 

“ I must sew, but that need n’t prevent the 
rest of you going,” said Merle, edging home- 
ward. “ Besides I promised Roy I ’d take him 
out.” 

“ Now don’t be contrary. Merle,” said May, 
pleadingly ; ‘‘ don’t spoil everything ! — your sewing 
can wait ; and besides I did n’t hear anything about 
Roy before.” 

“ I promised him a long time ago,” said the short- 
sighted dissembler. 

“ He ’s forgotten it, then. Don’t try to dodge 
any more. Say ‘ yes,’ just this once, there ’s a dear, 
and I ’ll do anything to please you.” 

Bob said nothing, but picked up a stick and 
whittled industriously; and Merle, fearing that he 
too thought her contrary and foolishly disobliging, 
threw discretion to the winds, and yielded reluctantly, 
saying : 

“ I ’ll go on certain conditions ; that we take Roy, 
and don’t bother with the canoes, but hire a boat 


MERLE AND MAY 


SS4 

“ Horrors ! five in a row-boat ! ” escaped Bob 
involuntarily. 

Now Merle, be sensible,” persisted May. 
“ There is n’t a row-boat on the river would accom- 
modate Bob’s and Willard’s long legs at the same 
time. And what ’s the fun sitting on a rail fence 
when we can have the comfort of our cushions.^ As 
for Roy ” 

“ Just as you like. I propose a compromise, and 
you can meet me half-way or not. If you don’t, then 
I ’m free to stick to my first intention, which I think 
I will, for it ’s by far the most sensible.” 

“Accept by all means,” whispered Bob as Merle 
turned and disappeared in the shrubbery. May did 
speedily accept, and Merle agreed to go. But the 
fates conspired against her, for Roy had been mys- 
teriously whisked off by an indebted neighbor ; and 
when Merle skipped down the bank she found both 
canoes launched and Willard in waiting, for May 
had omitted to say that Willard had already started 
for the boat, taking acceptance to his proposition 
for granted; and Merle, feeling it was foolish to re- 
bel against what was clearly for her comfort, chose 
the wiser course and accepted her outwitting 
gracefully. 

All seemed in the merriest of moods ; an amazing 
flow of brilliant talk and sharp repartee floated 


CANOEING 


335 


shoreward; and as the moss-colored canoe and the 
scarlet one bobbed gayly alongside, Merle succumbed 
to the beauty of the day, and agreed that the plan 
had been a wise one. 

Her decision was unexpectedly and suddenly re- 
versed however, for May, whose sharp eyes seldom 
found much in books, but never missed anything in 
nature, suddenly saw, or thought she saw, a much 
prized cardinal flower growing at the bend which 
rounded to the falls. The river was narrow and 
rocky, the water shallow, and Bob immediately re- 
fused to scrape his canoe, and to run the risk of 
laying her up just as they were preparing for camp. 

Merle was not known to be especially brave, and 
preferred calm waters to troubled, but in the 
present instance, had she been consulted, she would 
have shot the rapids in preference to being left be- 
hind with Bob. 

She had no choice, however, but to wave a good- 
bye, caution May not to venture too far, and to 
admire the secluded little cove into which Bob so 
skilfully shot his canoe. But the fine flow of talk 
that had redeemed the early part of the afternoon 
seemed spent, and though Merle did her best to keep 
it up, the pauses became more numerous and more 
felt. 

She herself felt unaccountably nervous and ill at 


336 


MERLE AND MAY 


ease, for an undercurrent of feeling that was grow- 
ing too marked to ignore keyed her every sense to 
its highest pitch. Never had the sky looked so 
heavenly blue, the river so calm and clear, the song 
of the birds been so sweet and soulful. As they 
floated on, something of its peace stilled even her 
nervous forebodings, and she glanced first at the 
paddle in its rhythmical parting of the water, and 
then at the paddler. Just a glance, that was all, 
for the sudden color dyed Merle’s cheeks and she 
looked away. In that one glance it seemed as if 
her Bob had disappeared, and a man, strong and 
purposeful, was in his place. For the moment his 
mastery overcome her, then her sex’s tact recovered 
itself in a perfectly normal remark. 

“ I ’m sorry we left them. I know Mrs. Norton 
thinks that I will look out for May on the river. If 
we leave this little eddy and paddle out, don’t you 
think we ’ll meet them ? ” 

V 

“We’ve left them many times before on the 
river ; why this sudden regret. Merle ? ” questioned 
Bob with a wise smile that said as plainly as words 
that her ruse had failed. 

Merle vouchsafed neither answer nor glance in 
reply, but reached her hand overboard, and trailed 
it idly in the water. 

On, on, the birch-bark canoe drifted; on, on, with 


CANOEING 


337 


only the silvery splash of the paddle and this idling 
hand to break the quiet. 

‘‘ Merle ! ” 

The tone in the voice dyed Merle’s cheeks again, 
and the water dimpled from the trembling of her 
hand. 

‘‘ Merle, dear, look at me ! Don’t you Imow ? ” 

Yes, she knew, and afterward Merle felt it never 
would be possible to feel again such a moment of 
pain. Her heart seemed to shut up and to stop beat- 
ing in one convulsive throb, that drew the blood back 
from her cheeks and left her pale and wretched. 

Such a burden of love in that one whispered word ! 
She never knew her plain, one-syllabled name could 
carry such an unfolding of love in its cadence — that 
one whispered word, — which the summer zephyr 
kissed and floated on to the song sparrow, to add to 
his symphony. 

“ Oh Bob — I ’ve thought — but I can’t — I don’t 
deserve ” 

Fortunate it was that they were in a canoe, and 
that one ill-timed motion would send them both to 
the bottom of the river, for Bob’s terror at the 
first words of her remark met with such lover’s relief 
at its finish that he would surely have gone to her. 
But Merle faltered and stopped, and then shook her 
head as if in resolve to have the worst over. 


22 


338 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I knew I was doing wrong all this last month, 
and to-day most of all, I did n’t want to come — and 
— and it seems my misfortune always to give pain — 
and. Bob, dear — don’t look at me like that, and don’t 
care for me — don’t care for me! ” sobbed Merle, cov- 
ering her face with her hands. 

“You’re not to blame dear, it’s just what you 
have done this last month that determined me to 
stop all this suspense, though I intended to wait till 
after camp. But to-day — I could n’t wait — some- 
thing impelled me to find out — I must know if you 
won’t care for me just a little. Merle ” 

“ I don’t care for any one. I ’ve had so little love 
in my life I suspect sometimes I don’t know how to 
love.” 

“ Then let me teach you, dear. We ’ll reverse 
Orlando and Rosalind, and this river will do very 
well for the Forest of Arden. I have had little love 
in my life too, and that I think makes you all the 
dearer. You are a dozen denied loves all in one, 
the reward for the past, the promise of the future. 
Oh Merle — I love you so 1 I love you so, dear I it 
can’t be you are going to be only a pain in my life.” 
“ A pain ? Oh, I hope not ! Help me to be true 
to us both, Bob. I said I did n’t know how to love. 
I ’ll take that back. I ’ve had so little love in my 
life that I ’m starved for it, — and now I want it so — 


CANOEING 


SS9 


I want it so that I don’t dare to take it. Oh, Bob ! I 
want to be sure — so sure — for I ’m in love with 
love ! ” 

Left to its own guidance the little birch-bark; 
canoe drifted gracefully on and ran ashore among 
the blossoming arrowhead and pickerel weed. Wel- 
coming so opportune an escape Merle sprang ashore, 
and as a disguise to deeper feelings, laughingly held 
out her hands in invitation. 

After mooring the little craft. Bob joined her, but 
no answering laughter or smile welcomed her. 
Longing to be generous and to ease the pain she had 
given to this dearest of friends. Merle, unskilled in 
love ’s refusal, did, perhaps, the worst possible 
thing. Stooping quickly she picked a cluster of the 
bluetts that everywhere starred the damp, rich 
ground, looking very like their sisters of a more 
tender name, and, utterly innocent of the flowers’ 
suggestion, held them up as a peace offering. 

The pain died out of Bob’s face, the lover’s hope 
sprang into his eyes, and he pointed to his coat 
lapel. Merle faltered, her eyes filling, as she re- 
called a similar act so many months ago when she 
had fastened in the striped pink and Bob had taken 
her for his life’s Mentor. How young and childish 
she seemed then ! how old and wise now ! 

But a new resolve awoke, and with a pretty ges- 


340 


MERLE AND MAY 


ture Merle shook back her waves of hair and reached 
up smiling, somewhat fearful, yet intent on be- 
ing generous, feeling perhaps that she could afford 
to give this little recompense for love’s wound. But 
her pretty look of entreaty overpowered Bob, and he 
suddenly drew her to him. 

Of course Merle struggled away, surprised and 
indignant ! Dear me, she did nothing of the kind — 
poor little Merle ! unspoiled by love’s experience. She 
quietly yielded to the embrace, wondering why she 
was not willing to have her aspiring little wings 
pinioned by these strong arms, and kept all safe and 
happy in their clasp. Her dear kind Bob, who had 
piled her lap with every comfort his tact could com- 
pass, how deeply she was in debt, how poorly she 
must meet it ! Yet there was no conflict, no yearn- 
ing — only pain for him. She was not ready for the 
lover ’s love, but she needed the friend’s love and 
could not bear to lose it. She glanced up shyly, 
longing to clasp her arms around his neck, and beg 
him not to care much, — just a little — but not too 
much. Bob read the impulse in her eyes and drank 
deep of their tender light, though the tenderness was 
only pity. 

“ Merle dear, think ; it can’t be wholly ‘ No.’ It 
can’t. Merle, it can’t ! ” 

“ It is, Bob, and you least of all should wish me 



HE SUDDENLY DREW HER TO HIM 






CANOEING 


341 


to say ‘ Yes.’ You would n’t be content with less 
than all, even if I could bring myself to give it. Love 
means too much for me to deceive myself. It means 
— oh! so much, Bob. I want to feel, not that I could 
be happy with — with you, but that I should be per- 
fectly wretched without you ! ” 

“ Does the ‘ but,’ in disproving the last, prove the 
first. Merle.? ” 

“ Yes ; I think so.” 

“ That you could be happy with me now.? ” 

“ Ye — es, in a way.” 

“ Then you must love me, dear.? ” 

“ I do — no, no — not in that way. It might be 
simply tolerance, — what the French marry with, you 
know. It must be something like that, because I 
can’t say the last thing.” 

“ Can’t say that you would be perfectly wretched 
without your Bob .? ” 

“ No, oh no! I can’t say that. Think how much 
is awaiting me — my music, my writing — oh, I ’ve so 
much to do. Bob, so much ! I am impatient to begin. 
Besides, we are young yet, too young to bind our 
future till we have seen a little more of life and its 
possibilities for us. Surely you must feel tlhat> 
Bob.” 

Bob looked down at the fair, enthusiastic face and 
studied it unhindered, for the gray eyes were veiled 


34>2 


MERLE AND MAY 


in a flight of fancy that wafted the dreamer far 
away. Gradually the pain died out of his o^vui face; 
his eyes grew bright; a smile struggled for the 
mastery. He looked — not at all as you would ex- 
pect a rejected lover to look. He too saw a vision, 
the vision of a future sweet and fair enough to sat- 
isfy his deepest longings, and no farther off than was 
right and good for him — for her. His deep, brown 
eyes always seemed to have the faculty of seeing 
farther than other eyes, and just now that power 
of divination stood him in good stead. 

“ I see, dear,” he said softly. “ We ’ll wash the 
slate clean and begin again. I ’ll hand Cupid back 
his arrow, for he shot — too soon.” 

The last words were spoken so low that Merle did 
not catch their import; for she woke slowly from her 
reverie and said, after an introspective pause : “ In 
books, rejecting a lover always makes a fearful 
tangle ; usually one or the other of the pair has to 
go abroad; but in real life it is n’t so bad, is it.^ ” 

“ Not so very.” 

‘‘We’re so sensible about it; we won’t have to 
go round dodging each other, will we? Can’t we 
be just the same.^” 

“ Just the same.” 

“Just as if nothing had happened?” 

“ Just as if nothing had happened.” 


CANOEING 


S4S 


And you ’ll be Bob, and I ’ll be just Merle? ” 

“ And I ’ll be Bob, and you ’ll be — just Merle.” 

“ Then I ’m satisfied, and I ’ll go to camp. Will 
it be proper? ” 

“ Of course ; we ’re not going to avoid each other, 
you said.” 

“And nobody will know?” 

“Not a body!” 

“ I should miss you so if the dear old times had 
to stop,” sighed Merle, eying a black vest button re- 
flectively, seemingly unaware that in strict propriety 
that vest button and its wearer should have been 
somewhat farther from her vision. 

Perhaps the fact suddenly dawned on her, for she 
glanced up shyly, met a pair of brown eyes that more 
than answered her awakening, and, blushing poppy 
red, turned away. 

“Just a moment, dear, — just a moment. Then you 
can spread your trial wings and fly away for — a 
little while. See ! a sunbeam has got caught in your 
hair and is held a prisoner. Let me free it, just as 
a seal to this first chapter of our — what shall we call 
it.^ — love? friendship? compact? yes, compact, — 
that ’s the word. What ! not one little caress to 
make it good and strong, when I feel as if I deserved 
a dozen for being so amenable? ” 

Merle bowed her pretty head, and Bob touched 


344 


MERLE AND MAY 


the soft hair; touched it reverently with lips that 
trembled with unspoken love; touched it lingeringly 
while in his heart rose words that answered hope with 
hope; words which he s'oftly whispered in the pink 
ear that was so near to his lips: 

“ ‘ Sweet, good-night ! 

This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath. 

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.” 

“ See ! ” faltered Merle, with glistening eyes and 
averted face; “see! there’s a red canoe just round- 
ing the bend, and in it — yes, in it are May and Wil- 
lard, waving their hands to us.” 


CHAPTER XVm 


HOME AGAIN 

Labor Day distinguished itself that year by being 
as late as possible, and if not as hot as possible, cer- 
tainly far hotter than one might reasonably expect 
from a fall month. Above was an exasperatingly 
cool and motionless sky; below, a perspiring and 
scurrying crowd. 

Of two contingents this crowd was composed, each 
intent on its own seeking. One was that vast mass 
of workers who gave the day its name, out on a 
fierce quest for pleasure; the other, no less vast but 
more favored of fortune, the returning vacationists, 
whom the knell of Labor Day had rung in from 
mountain, seaside, and country. 

Each was scurrying for the same goal now; the 

pleasure-seekers weary of the day’s exactions, the 

travellers no less weary. The former had stood hours 

under a scorching sun ; had clapped approval of 

the laborers’ long line of perspiring, dusty marchers 

that looked as if the day ’s work was the hardest 

345 


34-6 


MERLE AND MAY 


of the three hundred and sixty-five; had imbibed 
freely of the appetizing wares of the vender order; 
and had done the honors to the junior members right 
royally in the shape of red balloons, pink lemonade, 
variegated confections, who, as a final test to the 
stability of their digestive organs, had churned the 
same in a dizzy swirl in the merry-go-round. 

Now the two waves met and overflowed every avail- 
able conveyance. Horse-cars were stormed, and 
their patient brutes bent willing necks to their daily 
yoke and strained and stumbled and flashed sparks 
over the cobblestones with no encouragement but 
the lash of the driver ’s whip, or now and then the 
help up some steep grade of an overworked relay, 
who strained and struggled and panted with them. 

Omnibuses were filled to bursting, cabbies grew 
insolent with the intoxication of the day ’s per- 
quisites, and private coachmen swore the air blue for 
precedence. 

The terminal stations were bewildering with con- 
fusion ; engines snorted and screeched and belched 
the air black with suffocating smoke; the ear-split- 
ting disconnecting of air-brakes scattered the un- 
wary, and left a smiling brakeman to enjoy his 
joke; the crowd forgot its manners and pushed and 
jostled madly for right of way; infants cried at the 
uproar; small dogs yelped with pain, finding no 


HOME AGAIN 


347 


spot of safety for their four small feet; baggage 
trams flew up and down the walks, and left to pas- 
sers-by the privilege of guarding their shins ; trunks 
were tossed about like soap bubbles, the only wonder 
being that the simile was not further carried out by 
their bursting in mid-air. 

Into this pandemonium a long-distance, double- 
engine train slowly slid, and after many puffs and 
snorts and shrieks, stood steaming and puffing like a 
winded horse. 

In a twinkling its coaches disgorged their black 
swarm, hot, cramped, cinder-dusty, and weary; who 
awoke, nevertheless, with the first step on stable 
ground, and were quickly lost in the mass around 
them. 

Half-way down this train, beside the entrance to 
a parlor car, a colored porter stood with his adjust- 
able step, and saw a possible nickel or dime in every 
offer for help that his black hands made. Near him 
others stood in waiting, scanning eagerly every face. 
Coachmen in livery, maids, nurses, friends, relatives, 
were all eager to confer further favors on these al- 
ready favored children of fortune. They pressed 
nearer and nearer the step and greatly hindered the 
passengers, till the porter waved them back 
unceremoniously. 

He had just cleared the way to small purpose 


348 


MERLE AND MAY 


when a young girl dashed out of the car, poised a 
moment on the top step, and then, ignoring the por- 
ter ’s hand, dashed blindly down. 

“ I beg your pardon, sir ! ” said the girl, rescu- 
ing her tennis racket from the tip of an old gentle- 
man’s cane, wliich he carried atilt under his arm. “ I 
beg your pardon, sir ! ” 

The old gentleman turned savagely, glared up at 
the apologist, up at a light frousled head, at a face 
that evidently had once matched it in complexion, but 
at present was freckled, burned, and tanned, saw a 
flash of white teeth, and smiled involuntarily at the 
saucy brightness, freckles and all, that made the 
girl piquantly charming. His ire took wing and he 
was just about to meet the apology gracefully, when 
his glance was diverted to a second young girl just 
emerging from the car’s gloom. 

She too was tall, with a mass of chestnut hair that 
a fluttering veil now hid and now disclosed coyly ; she 
too was tanned, but not enough to hide the rich glow 
of two rounded cheeks ; and as she tripped dowm the 
steps the veil lifted and out peered tw^o brilliant 
gray eyes. 

“By Jove!” muttered the old man to himself. 
“ These nineteenth-century girls ! ” and he tucked his 
cane anew under his arm, moved nearer for a second 
view, and in the act came very near relieving several 


HOME AGAIN 


349 


passers-by of their eye-balls, and acquainted other 
scurrying pedestrians with the exact location of 
their three lower floating ribs. 

“ Don’t drag on me so; and come away from those 
wheels, Roy ! If you yank Pickles again, you 
sha’n’t lead him ! ” 

“ Let me take Roy, May, if you can manage my 
shawl-strap and this Ashing tackle. Bob was loaded 
and I insisted on taking them,” said Merle, as she 
drew one hand through her father’s arm, and took 
Roy with the other. 

“ We ’re a sight for a wondering world! ” laughed 
May, with another flash of white teeth, as she added 
the shawl-strap and fishing tackle to three um- 
brellas, two alpine poles, one camera tripod, two 
tennis rackets, and pushed a flashing tin botany box 
farther along its strap on her shoulder. 

“ Mother 1 ” she continued, “ you look more fit for 
Castle Island than for the entrance of a parlor car. 
Let me see; that flat thing under your right arm 
which looks horribly like a whiskey flask is, I believe, 
the rattlesnake the boys shot and preserved in al- 
cohol. If you ’d remove the wrapper, dear, so that 
they could see it, the crowd would probably 
give you right of way with pleasure. Left arm, — 
Roy’s sail-boat, wraps ad in^nituviy one bunch of 
wilted herbs (Thanksgiving in embryo), one ca- 


350 


MERLE AND MAY 


narj cage, and — what on earth is in that ban- 
.danna? ” 

“ Mr. Elliot’s mosses and Roy’s shells ; they are 
both light; I can carry them as well as not. Start 
ahead, and finish your inventory in the carriage. 
We ’re all here. Will and Grace have gone up-town 
to see about furnishings for the new room — insati- 
able dears ! and the boys shot out back when the 
train slowed up, and took a cross-cut over the tracks 
to the baggage room, to see about the canoes and 
trunks. I told Bob we were competent enough to 
get from here to the waiting-room in safety; so pilot 
ahead. May. Yes, sweetie, you shall have your choo- 
choo when we get home. Mr. Elliot, look out for 
your specimens, — that hornet’s nest is slipping 
down.” 

After missing and finally meeting, after unloading 
and reloading arms again, after much running to 
and fro and the compassing of many brilliant after- 
thoughts, the three women, with Roy and Mr. El- 
liot, succeeded in squeezing themselves and their 
medley of belongings into a coach, and the coachman 
in closing the door. 

“ It ’s over ! ” groaned May, sinking back against 
the cushions, and blinking out from her screen of 
fish-poles and alpine-sticks. “ It ’s over — a month of 
joy — the very quintessence of joy! Who was that 


HOME AGAIN 


351 


spleeny livered philosopher, Merle, who said that 
anticipation was always greater than realization? I 
should like to see him privately for a moment. Did 
you ever have such fun in your life? ” 

“ Never ! ” 

“ Such canoeing, morning, noon, and night — 
principally night — moonlight, cherie; do you 
tumble ? ” 

“ Moonlight ? certainly.” 

“ And such a company ! did ever such a congenial 
one meet this side of — earth, mother earth, plain, 
prosaic earth. And such drives ! Such walks ! 
Such pretty secluded little — little walks, Merlie?” 
“ I remember.” 

“ Such picnics ! Such tramps ! Such camp-fire 
stories ! Such appetites ! Such — such mosquitoes ! 
I think Bob has one in alcohol that had the audacity 
to light on your hand, dear” (in a stage whisper). 

Such — such — where did I leave off? Oh, what did 
you think of Bob’s cousin Will? ” 

“ I met him before, you know.” 

“ Promising enfant, n ’est-ce-pas? ” 

He does very well for Amherst ; usually I fly the 
Harvard flag, you know.” 

“ Oh, it was all glorious! glorious! Too glorious! 
Might I put my feet out of the window, mother? 
Thackeray did when he felt as I do just now.” 


352 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ And so reasonable too ! ” said Mrs. Norton some- 
what drily, extricating Roy’s fish-hook from the 
Philosopher’s coat collar, that promising young gen- 
tleman having been amusing himself by angling for 
an imaginary trout. “ I can’t quite understand how 
it ever came about; but Bob insisted that he had 
been over the figures, and it was all right ; I need not 

trouble myself about them.” 

“ Bless the boy! ” ejaculated May. “ There never 

lived a dearer one, — that is, not many. And he 
seemed in such jolly spirits. Merle; did you notice? 
Unquestionably a host ‘ to the manner born.’ ” 

“ A very intelligent young man,” observed the 
Philosopher dreamily. “ Plis knowledge of local 
flora is quite remarkable.” 

“ And the month’s familiarity brought no con- 
tempt,” pursued Mrs. Norton. “ My fonner high 
estimate of him is more than confirmed. I told him 
frankly last evening, when we were having a talk, 
that I admired him for certain things. He is not 
the sort that praise spoils, but wdll rather try to 
live up to it.” 

But the young woman in the corner added no 
drop to this bucket of appreciation, only pulled down 
her veil and glanced idly out of the coach window. 
“ Still waters run deep,” they say. 

Yet the month had been no less joyous to her 


HOME AGAIN 


353 


than to May. How could she fail to appreciate the 
much-needed rest from care and endeavor, the free, 
open life, the championship of merry, congenial 
friends, and the unceasing watchfulness of one who, 
however free and unstudied his attentions might 
appear to the unobserving, she well knew was on 
the watch to cater to her every wish, spoken or 
unspoken ? 

Oh it was glorious, those long idling days, when 
her deeply appreciative nature had drunk long 
draughts of the beauty about her ; the changing sky, 
the deeps and shallows of mountain light, the tints 
of valley and meadow ; and beyond, as far as the 
eye could pierce, the sinuous curves of the lazy 
river, blue like the heavens it mirrored. 

Yes, it was glorious, “ in linked sweetness long 
drawn out.” It was glorious while it lasted ; it 
would be glorious to look back on, an inexhaustible 
cup of joy for future thirsty sips. 

The next year would have its hard and disappoint- 
ing days, no doubt, when Della returned to college, 
and the care of the little suite and her irrespon- 
sible father would rest alone on her young shoulders. 
Yet the care of this father was fast becoming not 
only a duty but a pleasure. Though the School of 
Life had not taught him to be shrewd and worldly, 

she was beginning to see the beauty of his pure and 
23 


354 


MERLE AND MAY 


tranquil life, — learning to love him dearly too, and 
to realize that whatever was best in her came from 
him. And while she was learning to accept this 
father and love him, she was learning to accept 
others with less reservation ; to see the good every- 
where, and to ask for perfection nowhere save in the 
strivings of her own ambitious young heart. Mrs. 
Norton was right. Home was not a place, but a 
condition, and it did rest with her to make its at- 
mosphere what she would. She had succeeded a 
little ; she would succeed better the coming year. 

He, her father, had had his first taste of social 
pleasure for years through her and her friends; and 
how he had revelled in that freedom, how kind and 
gracious he had unceasingly been, how responsive to 
every effort for his entertainment! And how con- 
genial he and Bob had grown to be as they tramped 
long miles through “ bog and bosky bourn ” in 
studious quest for some much prized “ specimen.” 
How well they had become acquainted in that inti- 
mate life — he and her father — she and Bob, good 
comrades all! Some magician had been at work in 
those idling days, for a quiet restfulness had crept 
into Merle’s heart, which she did not question, but 
accepted gratefully, as one more gift that a smiling 
and, she hoped, not too fickle fortune had of late laid 
at her feet. 


HOME AGAIN 


355 


Well, it was over now, as May had said; and work 
came next. She welcomed it, and as if in sympathy 
with the scurrying, restless, noisy crowd, lifted her 
veil and peered out, saying as the coach swerved 
round familiar corners and dashed into well-known 
streets : 

“ How good it seems to be back, after all ! ” 

“I was just thinking, how detestable!” observed 
May. “ I never knew we lived in such a dirty street ! 
How vile those red bricks look after our velvet mead- 
ows I And, mother ! the steps need a new coat of 
paint.” 

“ A little of your tan, dear, would go a good way,” 
suggested Merle teasingly; “and those freckles 
would work in nicely too ; pebbling is all the style 
now.” 

“ Don ’t throw stones, my ‘ nut-brown mayde,’ the 
glass in your o^\^l roof is far too brittle. Oh! oh! 
drop thy veil dearest, — 

“ ‘ ’T is beauty truly blent, whose red and brown 
Nature’s own sweet and cunning hand laid on.’ 

“ Here we are ! Alight, goddess. Shall I play 
Sir Walter Raleigh, and throw my fishing tackle 
down for you to step on? (another historical fact, 
my dear, which escaped my over-crammed memory 
that day we inventoried!) Musty! musty! I smell 


356 


MERLE AND MAY 


rats ! rats ! RATS ! Is it typhoid, mother, that peo- 
ple always have on returning from the country? 
Turn on all the faucets; throw open the blinds; — 
light, light ! ‘ More light ! ’ as some great author 

said when he was about to give up — Don’t ask me 
for that choo-choo again, Roy! Have the goodness 
to wait till I have had time to remove a peck or two 
of these cinders — yes, yes, I ’ll save a few for your 
engine ; they ’ll be the real thing and no mistake, — 
no flies on them! 

“Oh! oh! there are Waffles and Sally Lunn on 
Bob’s piazza ! How they ’ve grown ! That butler 
has done himself proud on them! And what a lux- 
uriant crop of whiskers Sally has sprouted ! and what 
a tail ! — my eyes ! what a tail ! First class in natural 
history, step up ! What is a cat’s tail made for ? 
Answer: To balance on rail fences on dark nights! 
Ten extras ; move up. Second class in natural 
history: For what are a cat’s whiskers designed? 
Answer: To strum moonlight nights as an accom- 
paniment to mezzo-tenor roundelays ! ” 

“ Oh, May ! ” laughed Merle, dropping into the 
old arm-chair, “ no one needs a tonic wFen you ’re 
round. You ’re like a whiff of perpetual spring. 
Come here, dear, and kiss me ; for I have n’t seen half 
enough of you this last month with so much going 


HOME AGAIN 


357 


Sir Walter kneels to his Queen ! ” 

“ You ’re getting to be such a dear May. I ’ve 
noticed how willingly you gave up your plans and ac- 
cepted others, how helpful you were with Roy, and 
how thoughtful for your mother; besides — shall I 
make you vain? You’re growing positively stun- 
ning, my dear.” 

“ Gently, gently, most gracious Queen. Is this my 
knighting? Methinks I feel my wings asprout. 
Goddess, do pin-feathers prick? Something does, 
here under my clavicle ; most likely it ’s simply a pin, 
no feathers.” 

“ Seriously, May, I love you for your endeavor.” 

“ And I love you for yourself. Next to mother 
and Grace you come ; and when I think how I 
dreaded renting those rooms, it does n’t seem possible 
such a blessing could have been so disguised.” 

‘‘ And I love you, dear, because ’^ou are the first 
one I ever truly loved.” 

“ Goddess, — one question.” 

“ Owl, — a dozen.” 

“ It ’s personal — ^you ’ll resent it.” 

“ This is a privileged night, dear.” 

“ Did anything — happen at camp ? ” 

“A great many things, to judge from your own 
recital just now.” 

Anything in particular, I mean ? ” 


358 


MERLE AND MAY 


“ I fear, dear, that my coat of tan covers a green 
tinting that I feel overspreading my features.” 

“You are not so green that you don’t know what 
I mean. Have — have you yoked the third finger 
of your left hand? ” 

Merle dropped back in her chair in such a breath- 
less burst of laughter that it was some time before 
she could say: 

“ No! I ’ve not yoked the third finger of my left 
hand. Owl 1 ” 

“ And the sky is clear for another year? ” 

“ Nothing portends, to my knowledge.” 

“ I ’m glad,” said May seriously. “ Now, noth- 
ing will come between us, and we ’ll be just girls for 
another year. There ’s a kiss for that ; and now 
we ’ll come down to earth. Hear that dear woman 
rattling the stove downstairs? That means flap- 
jacks for us all. The boys will eat with us off the 
stationary tubs, and with the coal shovel and poker, 
probably; for it will take mother at least a week to 
remember where she has hidden things. Now I’m 
off for some syrup, — and pickled limes, by Jove! Six 
pickled limes I ’ll devour on the spot as a recompense 
for a month’s denial!” 

The family did dine ensemble off the stationary 
tubs, though the blackened silver was brought to 
light in time to save the shovel and poker from being 


HOME AGAIN 


359 


drafted into service. After which merry meal the 
family repaired to the sitting-room, and Mrs. Norton 
moved eagerly and importantly about, seeing a dozen 
things to do at once, and regretting, doubtless, that 
her digital possibilities were not wholly equal to the 
occasion. 

“ I can’t agree with you. May, that everything 
looks disappointingly shabby. To me, after living 
in a pine hut for a month, things look positively 
luxurious. Or is it my love for the flesh-pots of 
Egypt ? ” 

“ It ’s your very philosophical rendering of 
‘ Unto him that hath shall be given,’ ” observed May 
laconically, as she stepped back to view critically the 
fernery she was building in the open grate. 

“ Come, Roy — you ’re the next task in order ; but 
mother can’t rock you very long to-night, so be spry 
and mount your Pegasus and be off for the Land 
of Dreams. After all, what a happy year this has 
been,” continued Mrs. Norton, who was apt to be 
in a reflective mood when this last much-loved and 
over-indulged fledgeling folded his wings for the 
night. How much better things have turned out 
than I had reason to expect, and how much strength 
we waste in worry. If the next year will deal as 
kindly with us, I shall have no room for regrets.” 

“ It has been a happy year, and eventful too when 


360 


MERLE AND MAY 


you look back, for I feel as if I ’d gained a sister 
and a brother too,” said May, smiling from Merle to 
the absorbed bridegroom who stood coatless and col- 
larless measuring the windows of the new room. 

“ Yes, it seems dull and hard sometimes from 
day to day, but it has been happy and full of plans 
and surprises after all,” said Merle softly ; “ and I 
in particular have so much to be thankful for.” 

‘‘ And I too,” smiled the pretty bride, handing 
her monarch the yard-stick wrong-end-to and getting 
her small hand kissed for her bungling. “ Health, 
love, and home — what more can one want ! ” 

“We ’re a saintly, satisfied crowd,” said May ; 
“ won’t somebody please aspire a little ! Mother, 
send in your next year’s order early, and avoid the 
rush ! ” 

“ I wish for nothing, dear, aside from the health 
and happiness of my girls. Three I have now, for 
Merle has grown so inexpressibly dear to me, I forget 
sometimes that she is not really mine.” 

“ Keep on forgetting,” whispered Merle, as she 
dropped on the hassock at Mrs. Norton’s feet, and 
lovingly yielded herself to the arms held out for her 
endearment ; thereby causing a certain gentleman in 
the room to look with savage envy on that plain black 
gown that could hold so sweet a burden unmoved. 

“ Willard ! take your nose out of that paper, and 


HOME AGAIN 


361 


let us hear what noble act redeemed your past year, 
and what plans will glorify your future,” commanded 
May. 

“ I see nothing,” replied that shrewd young man, 
scanning a memorandum book he drew from his 
pocket. “ I see nothing. Captain, which the record- 
ing angel has placed to my credit — save — wait ! — just 
one deed of mercy. I rescued — that is, I helped 
to rescue — a young lady from drowning last 
spring! ” 

‘‘From drowning!” came in a chorus from the 
uninformed. 

“Yes, drowning! from swift and certain death!” 

“ Why, here ’s a romance,” said the bride. “ Was 
she pretty ? ” 

“Pretty! A perfect nymph, with golden hair 
and ” — here a freckled nose went up, but the danger 
of its angle was lost in the mirror’s dissolving view. 

“ Have you seen her since ” queried Mrs. Norton 
innocently. 

“ Trust me for that, madam.” 

“ Are the cards out, laddie ? ” interposed the 
builder of the grate’s fernery. 

“ No, Captain, not yet. At present it ’s a case of 
‘ Barkis is willing.’ ” 

“ It’s a case that ’s not likely to prove conta- 
gious, sir; and I predict that he’ll linger in a slow: 


362 


MERLE 'AND MAY 


and consuming fever for years to come. Have you 
any redeeming plans for the future, Hero.^ ” 

“ None, Siren, — only hope.” 

“ Bob, let ’s have a word of sense from you.” 
“From me?” said Bob nervously. “You’ve ap- 
plied to the wrong quarter, priestess. ]\Iy confes- 
sional is in my heart. We all have our plans and 
hopes and resolves, I suppose, but the best of us 
don’t care to be publicly pilloried.” 

“No regrets, sir? No incense burnt at an un- 
feeling shrine? ” parried May, athirst for mischief. 

“ Some regrets, surely — but no wasted incense, 
Argus.” 

“ You ’re a modest lot, and you grow more saintly 
and satisfied with every breath. Merle, do teach this 
humdrum crowd how to aspire ! ” 

“ I can only aspire for myself,” said Merle 
dreamily. “ There is so much to live for, I pity 
those who find life empty. For myself, I thirst to 
begin. There ’s my music awaiting me at the Con- 
servatory, my scribbling, of course, and you all 
know I ’m going back to take the advance year at the 
High. After that, — Fate alone knows what.” 

“ I shall graduate this coming year,” said May 
importantly ; “ after that I think I shall devote my 
time to Art, — with a big A, observe. In a few 
years, when your blood is curdling over Merle’s book. 


HOME AGAIN 


363 


you will be obliged to go abroad to view my exhibit 
in the Paris Salon. I have offered to collaborate 
with Merle, but I ’ve always heard there ’s a great 
deal of jealousy in that profession.” 

“ This retrospection and introspection is an idle 
waste of time,” said Merle, rising, “ when we ought 
to be up to our ears in work. I ’ll give you not only 
precept, but example, folkses ; for I want to get 
my nest in apple-pie order before Della returns from 
her trip with Miss Stein. I want her to feel that 
I have done as much for her as she did for me when 
I was getting ready for camp. Come, Bob, you 
said you ’d help father unpack his specimens.” 
But that intelligent young man had already an- 
ticipated this invitation, for he had risen when Merle 
rose, and stood holding the door open and looking 
down on her ladyship. 

‘‘ Mercy ! ” said Mrs. Norton, “ there goes the 
door-bell! Who can it be.? ” 

“ It ’s one of the little Bendonsa girls, I think,”' 
answered Merle. “ I wrote and told her to come 
right down and get some of the pretty things I 
brought before they wilt. Poor dears, without a 
whiff of summer I ” 

It was a small Bendonsa, who clasped Merle’s of- 
fered hand and clung to her shyly, bewildered by 
this unexpected sea of faces. 


364 


MERLE AND MAY 


‘‘ Me, too,” coaxed Roj, roused by the bell’s 
tinkle. 

“ Yes, you too,” said Merle indulgently. “ You 
shall share your pretty shells with Carlotta ” ; and 
Merle clasped the second fat little fist, and stood 
smiling into the upturned faces, looking not unlike 
Thayer’s picture of Charity Guarding the 
Innocent. 

“Three cheers for work! One! Two! Three! 
Give them with a will. Owl ; daytime is over and your 
eyes should be especially wide open now,” said Merle, 
laughing. “ Come, Bob. Good-night, all ; good- 
night.” 


THE END 





\ 



), 



;;;v.7:. ; ;‘;.V:^ •••V&-...;.-..'. ■ v, , v^;. .^y,V,- : ■ ■ - . 

'M .r ..*t^. I,. rl-, »■■■'>' ■*•'•'. ^ 







■ ■ v ■ ■ , • ■ . ■, : • •■. 


in/ r tf* t ' r ■ ■ 

fev--- ■■ 




-■ j . -* 

. .^, 1 , .: . 

•.; ,.• ;:. ...i. , 

>’;i^yy'r:'r - i-iiyy V ■' ■ 

^yyyyyy 

lyyy yyt 

my -. ; ■■-. : 

< v./uv; •. : 






r ■/;♦-' 







